


Hanging On

by Titti



Category: Oz (TV)
Genre: Challenge Response, M/M, NaNoWriMo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-12-01
Updated: 2005-12-01
Packaged: 2017-12-15 20:26:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 56,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/853716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Titti/pseuds/Titti
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Over the months, Miguel and Ryan need to rely on each other to survive</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hanging On

**Author's Note:**

> Note 1: Written for NaNoWriMo 2005  
> Note 2: The prompts come from the fanfic100 community on LiveJournal

**Part 1 - Prompt 001. Beginnings: Life in Oz**

Miguel walked in a daze. Destiny, the drug of choice in a place where there was no future, but only hopelessness, the drug of choice for people who had been screwed over since birth by fate, the drug of choice for a straight man who was fucking another guy on a nightly basis.

He was too spaced out even to get upset when strong hands took him by the shoulders, pushed him in a dark corner of Em City and slammed him against a wall. "Hey, bro."

"What the fuck are you doing?" hissed Ryan. "I thought you were done with that shit."

Miguel shrugged. "Changed my mind, hermano. You should try them, those mother fucking pills are out of this world."

"No, thanks, and if you aren't careful, you'll be out of this world, too. In a fucking body bag." Ryan moved back, glanced around to make sure no one was around. "Your new pal, there? He's become too powerful, too quickly. The Italians don't like it. The Homeboys don't like it. Hell, the dickhead of a warden doesn't like it. People are getting too violent because of that shit. Torquemada is going down."

Miguel pushed himself off from the wall. Even high, there were some things you always paid attention to. Ryan O'Reily was one of those things. "Yeah? And you're telling me this because...what? You care?" He snorted. "C'mon, O'Reily, what the fuck are you up to, now? Wait, I know, you want someone to take care of Torquemada for you, and you think I'll do it for you. Few words, some scheming. Fuck you, O'Reily, I'm done airholing people. You want it done, you do it yourself."

Ryan shook his head sadly. "Those pills must have done more damage than I thought." He got closer, until he was standing a few inches away from Miguel. "If I wanted him dead, you think I'd come to you? You've been too fucking high to lace your shoes, let alone shank someone. It's only a friendly warning, that's all."

"You don't do no friendly warnings, O'Reily."

"Yeah? Blame it on the Christmas spirit."

Miguel snorted at that. "Christmas in September now?"

"Shut the fuck up, Alvarez!" Ryan banged the flat of his hand on the wall, a few inches from Miguel's face. "I'm tired of seeing people die when they don't have to, all right? Keller, Cyril-" Ryan paused when he mentioned his brother's name. "People don't have to really die to shut down. Beecher after Keller, and Rebadow with the cancer back..." Ryan slumped against Miguel's body, and whispered, "I'm gonna be in this shit hole all my life. I'd like a few friendly faces around."

Miguel frowned, before grinning. "Whatever you're on, O'Reily, I want some."

The Irishman drew back, staring at the other man. "I'm not on anything," he said pointedly. "But I warned you..." He waved a finger in front of Miguel. "I warned you."

Miguel wasn't sure why he cared about O'Reily's motives or why he was touched that O'Reily might, maybe, perhaps, have no scam going at the moment. Fuck, he could always blame Destiny. He grabbed O'Reily's arm and pulled his closer, crashing their lips together.

Ryan pulled away with a frown. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?"

"Thanking you," Miguel replied with a smirk.

"I'm straight, you motherfucker."

"So am I, bro, but you see, I'm gonna be stuck in this hell hole for a long time as well, and I want more than a friendly face. If I die..." Miguel shrugged. "But gracias, amigo."

Something flashed on O'Reily's face, or maybe it was the drugs making him see things again, but then O'Reily's hand brushed against his face. "Stay alive, Alvarez. If you're alive, you never know what'll happen."

Miguel stood there, watching O'Reily leave. He grabbed the pills from his pocket, and stared at them. Maybe they weren't Destiny after all.

* * *

**Part 2 - Prompt 080. Why?: Never Question Yourself**

Why?!? Ryan banged the back of his head against the wall. Why had he warned Alvarez about Torquemada? How stupid could he have been? He shouldn't have confronted Alvarez. The Spick was obviously determined to kill himself, and if Ryan wasn't careful, Alvarez could hurt him in the process. One wrong word to that faggot Torquemada, and Ryan could be in deep shit.

"The wall is going to win," Beecher said with a grin as he entered the laundry room. "What did it do wrong anyway?"

Ryan pushed himself off from the wall with his foot and closed the distance. He leaned on the counter, close to where Beecher was folding his clothes. "Have you ever done something stupid? I mean, something you knew would get you in deep shit, but did it anyway?"

Beecher gave him the patented crazy grin. "You do remember who you're talking to, right?"

How could he have asked Beecher that question? He'd really lost his mind. Ryan should really start focusing any time now, but his brain seemed to have different ideas. "Why? I mean was it the sex?"

"Sex?" Beecher shook his head. "Don't get me wrong, the sex was great, better than great. We could go at it for hours-"

"Hey, I get it; I don't need the blow by blow replay."

Beecher chuckled. "The sex was part of it, but the truth is that I love- loved Chris more than I've loved anyone. Even when I hated him, I loved him." He sighed. "Love will make you do some crazy shit."

Ryan snorted. "I told that to Gloria, but she said that it's called obsession, not love, but it ain't love or obsession this time."

Beecher put his folded pants into the basked and turned to Ryan. "What did you do? No, never mind, don't tell me.... What I think is that in this place we all know why we do things, but it's often too dangerous to admit it. Even to ourselves."

Ryan leaned back against a dryer, and for a moment he replayed the conversation he had had with Alvarez. "I have no fucking clue why I said what I've said," he said, mostly to himself. "The benefits aren't big enough to justify the danger."

Beecher picked up his basked, and walked to the door. He stopped halfway out and turned his head. "Maybe the pay off is bigger than you're willing to admit," he said before leaving.

What was Beecher on? The crazy bastard made no sense. Of course, Ryan knew what the pay off was: Torquemada dead and a piece of the tits business. Still, he could achieve that without talking to Alvarez. No, there had to be another reason why he had taken temporary leave of his senses.

Damn if the reason didn't walk in, flying high as a kite. Alvarez sauntered across the room. He rested his elbow on the drier, right next to Ryan's face, his body pressing against the Irishman's side.

"What the fuck are you doing, Alvarez?"

"Need some stuff from the drier you're leaning against. That's all, baby."

Ryan reconsidered his first impression. Alvarez's words and gestures were too calculated. He wasn't high, at least not at the moment, but he certainly wanted someone to think he was high. 

Ryan could have blown his game on the spot, but he enjoyed the dance. He turned his head, and stared at the other man. "Why don't I think you're talking about clothes?"

Miguel leaned closer, until their faces were almost touching. "'Cause you're a smart man, O'Reily." 

Ryan span around, pressing Alvarez against the machines, but away from the drier's door. "Can't say the same thing about you." With a hand, he opened the drier. "It's all yours, Alvarez."

Ryan was surprised to feel Alvarez's hands on his chest, not quite pushing, but putting enough pressure to let him know that Alvarez wanted him to move. Ryan should tell him to fuck off, should have told him long ago, instead he went along. The slight movement was enough to let him see Torquemada outside. The maricon was standing there, glaring through the glass. What the hell was Alvarez doing? "Trying to get me killed, Alvarez?"

"You're too slick to die, O'Reily." Alvarez winked at him, and smiled before slipping between the machines and Ryan's body to reach inside the drier.

Ryan shook his head. "Why are you still doing that shit?"

"I don't have a reason to stop," Alvarez answered. All the teasing and playing had left his voice, replaced by numbness. 

"Surviving should be reason enough." Ryan raised his hands, cutting off any reply. "You know what? None of my business, but next time you try to use me in your games with your boyfriend, I'll shank you myself."

Ryan stormed out of the laundry room, making sure to bump into Torquemada as he went to his pod. He still didn't know why he was letting Alvarez get to him. He didn't know what games Alvarez was playing. He didn't understand what Beecher was trying to tell him. Hell, he didn't know what Beecher was saying half the time, but maybe in Oz, some things were better left unexplained.

* * *

**Part 3 - Prompt 071. Broken: Let The Pieces Fall**

Ryan loved kitchen duty because it allowed him to roam freely through the prison, even if only three times a day. Being constantly on the move allowed him to pick up information about all the cellblocks, and in Oz, information was as valuable as tits. 

He was making his rounds in the infirmary, shoving the trays in front of the inmates without too much compassion. His attention was elsewhere at the moment. Alvarez was still working in the ward, and right now, he looked sicker than the motherfuckers lying on the beds. Even at a distance, Ryan could see that Alvarez was shaking. His skin was a sickly yellow color. He was sweating. Ain't detox a bitch, Ryan thought with a smirk as he passed another tray.

He was returning to his cart, when Alvarez came running, bumping into him, and going straight for the bathroom. Ryan pushed the cart out of the way, and went after Alvarez.

"Hey, you didn't give me my food," shouted an inmate.

"You should be fucking glad that you don't have to eat this crap, Dowling," Ryan answered without missing a beat, but he went back, knowing that more yelling would mean hacks. He practically shoved the tray in front of Dowling, before going after Alvarez.

Ryan leaned against the door, hands crossed in front of him, watching as Alvarez threw up his lunch. He looked over his shoulders to make sure that there were no hacks around, before stepping inside and closing the door. "You look like shit."

"Fuck you," Alvarez said without bothering to turn. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, as he stood up, and went straight for the sink. He rinsed his mouth, and washed his face. When he stood up, he found Ryan standing right behind him, their images reflected on the mirror above the sink. "Shit," he let out, surprised. "What do you want, O'Reily?"

Ryan smirked. "So the rumors are true. You broke up with you boyfriend."

Alvarez snorted. "You should know better than to believe what these scumbags say." He turned, leaning against the sink, the only way he wouldn't find himself plastered against O'Reily. "I didn't break up with anyone, because I don't have a boyfriend."

Ryan nodded slowly. "Right, because you ain't a maricon. You just fuck one."

"Don't you have anything else to do?"

Ryan shook his head. "Not at the moment, no. So explain to me how is it that you didn't break up, and yet, here you are, going through detox?" He stepped even closer, until they were practically touching each other. "He cut you off, didn't he? He cut you off, and he's making sure that no one else is giving you pills."

Alvarez pushed himself from the sink, slamming their chests together. "You should be more worried about yourself, O'Reilly."

Ryan cocked his head. "Is that so?"

"I'm disappointed, man. You don't know why this happened? Tsk, and here I thought you knew everything that went on in this fucking place."

"You know what I know? That you're starting to piss me off, baby." Ryan singsonged the last word, trying to imitate Miguel's own cadence. "Tell me what you've heard."

"Heard? Oh no, O'Reily, no rumors, but certainties. How much are those worth?"

"How about your life, Alvarez? You ain't got many friends at the moment." Ryan briefly wondered why they were putting so much energy into this. Alvarez obviously wanted him to know something, and he had no plans to kill Alvarez. He guessed that they just couldn't turn their backs on years of conditioning and posturing.

"I don't know, O'Reily. Torquemada doesn't think you want to kill me." Not exactly calling him a liar, but Alvarez knew he had made his point. "In fact, he thinks the reason you've been watching me for weeks has nothing to do with life or tits and more to do with my ass."

"And of course, your little display in the laundry room had nothing to do with this idea." Ryan snorted. "I gotta hand it to you, you're one slick motherfucker." He finally stepped back, putting his hands in his pocket. "So who were you hoping would die?"

"No one," Miguel answered angrily. "I wanted him off my back for a while. Instead of finding someone to play with, he cuts me off. Word is out that if anyone gives me D, they'll never see a pill again. And now..." Miguel trailed off. He closed the gap again, staring straight into Ryan's eyes. "I'm sorry, all right. Just be careful. I don't need no more deaths on my conscience."

"I'm not gonna die, at least not because of a faggot like Torquemada." Ryan went to the door, checking through a crack for any hacks, before he turned to Alvarez again. "I wouldn't hang around your boyfriend, if I were you."

He opened the door and strutted into the infirmary. He froze for only a moment before smirking at Torquemada. "Oh, you're ill. Broke a nail, Torquemada?"

The man had a coy smile on his face, but it faltered for a second when Alvarez came out of the bathroom only a moment later. Then, he was smiling at Ryan again. "Darling, don't you know that you shouldn't play with other people's toys?"

O'Reily got closer, leaning toward the patch, so that Torquemada couldn't look straight at him. Anything to annoy the bastard. "And don't you know that people who don't share with the rest of the class have serious accidents?"

"This isn't business," Torquemada replied, his eye still fixed on Miguel.

"It's always business." Ryan gave him a fake smile. "Speaking of... I gotta go back to work." He turned and winked at Alvarez. "Later." He grabbed the food cart and walked out of the room with a new found objective. The tentative peace currently reigning in Oz was about to be shattered, and Torquemada would be the confetti to celebrate Ryan's newest accomplishment. Now, he only needed to decide who would kill the maricon and when.

* * *

**Part 4 - Revenge Is A Dish Best Served Cold.**

**Prompt 081. How?: The Start**

Getting rid of Torquemada required skills and precision. Not the actual killing, that was relatively easy in a place like Oz, where there were always people willing to airhole someone for the right price. No, the tricky part was how to do it without repercussions. 

Querns was the first concern. The man didn't give a shit about what people did as long as no one died. The important part was convincing him that this new drug was a problem for him.

* * *

"Warden." Ryan smiled as he handed out a food tray. "You must be here for Johnson." He shook his head. "They should know better than to take that shit. I mean a few people O.D.ed, three killed themselves without even knowing what they were doing."

"O'Reily, what the fuck do you want?" Querns growled.

"Me?" Ryan asked, raising his hands in surrender. "Nothing, I'm just saying that it's so addictive. I've gone through it, know what it can do to a guy, make you lose sense of reality, only goal's to get more... death seems inevitable."

Gloria had been standing nearby, a suspicious look on her face, but she couldn't fault his words. "He's right, Warden. This new drug is too addictive. We're going to see an increase in violence and death very soon."

Querns sighed. "Makes you look back at the days when heroine was the only thing we had to worry about with fondness."

Ryan smiled as he left the infirmary. His job here was done. It was time to move to object number two.

* * *

**Prompt 098. Writer's Choice: The Dance**

His second concern was the addicts themselves. Torquemada had taken over the tits business swiftly and completely. Leaving dangerous criminals without drugs was always an iffy proposition, but letting hundreds of them go through forced detox at the same time would mean serious violence, and that wasn't acceptable, not if they wanted the Warden to let more drugs in.

* * *

Ryan waited for the nod before sitting next to Pancamo. "I've been hearing things."

"You've been talking to yourself again, O'Reily?"

Ryan smiled, but ignored the jab, after all he had started his fair share of rumors. "Let's just say that I have reasons to believe that Querns isn't too sympathetic to anyone selling D."

"Yeah?" Pancamo shuffled the deck of cards. "And why would I care? I ain't selling any D."

Ryan nodded. "Which is a shame, really, but some people have no respect for rules," he said as he found Torquemada with his eyes. "But..." Ryan stared right into Pancamo's eyes. "If the supplier wasn't here anymore, we'd have to move quickly, replace the goods with something the Warden would find more acceptable."

Pancamo stayed silent for a moment, dealing the cards. "How quickly are we talking about?"

"How long do we need?" Ryan answered back as he looked at his cards, but he wasn't really seeing them. He was already thinking ahead. The Sicilians could bring in a lot of shit, and slowly he could bring his own. Yeah, this would work.

"A week at most," Pancamo answered. "But the supplier's disappearance can't be traced back to us, or the Warden ain't letting us deal tits."

Ryan nodded. "No one wants to disrupt the peace in Em City, especially not me." The Irishman grinned. "Trust me, they won't even trace it back to this cellblock."

"What is this going to cost me?"

Ryan shrugged. "We've always worked well together. I'm not stupid enough to take over your business. I need some room to do my own dealing without disrespecting anyone."

"Twenty percent of all business. Of course..." Pancamo leaned back against his chair. "You seem tight with Alvarez. Make sure El Norte doesn't interfere and it might be more."

Even though it was more than he had expected, Ryan shook his head. "Twenty five percent, and it's too soon to think about El Norte. They're all working for the faggot. We gotta wait and see what's going to happen first."

Pancamo snickered. "Always planning, O'Reily. Okay, you've got up to twenty five percent. You and only you, if you can't get that much, I cover what you can't bring in." He leaned toward Ryan, and whispered, "Now you need to do your magic."

Ryan grinned. "Don't worry. Call your suppliers, 'cause in a week Torquemada is going to have an accident." He pushed his chair out of the way and got up. "I'll see you later," he said with a wink.

* * *

**Prompt 059. Food: The End**

The third part of the plan was the killing itself. Ryan wanted it to happen as far away from Em City as possible. As he told Pancamo, it shouldn't be traced to either the Irish or the Italians. 

He briefly considered El Norte. It would take care of a possible rival when it came to the tits business, but they were all too ready and willing to support Torquemada. Of course, it had nothing to do with Alvarez, he told himself. There was no reason why he should care, right? If he told himself that enough time, he would start to believe it. In fact, it didn't take too long, because Ryan was a master at deception, even self-deception when it was necessary.

The next group was the Homeboys. They hadn't been much of a problem lately, and while with Querns in power, they could regain their status, Ryan didn't think it would happen. They were too fragmented, and things would implode within their ranks without his help.

No, there were only two groups that would be best suited for the job: the Bikers and the Aryans. Ryan didn't care who did the deed, as long as Torquemada died.

* * *

Ryan sat the tray in the empty space between two skinheads. He ignored the glares, instead looking over his shoulders as if searching for a hack. "Did you hear what they are saying about you guys?" He shook his head, and sighed. "The balls those faggots have."

"Yeah?" one of the skinheads replied, showing his teeth and the half eaten food in his mouth. Ryan wanted to throw up, but he wasn't talking to these people to learn about manners. "What are they saying?"

"I mean I can see their point. A fag is running Oz now. He can get all the D he wants through the mailroom. If one didn't know better, one might think that the Aryans are working for a faggot, and a Spick, too."

The growl around the table was so loud that Ryan had to be careful not to grin. One of the hacks noticed and came their way. "What are you doing here, O'Reily?"

Ryan shrugged. "Me? Just having lunch and a friendly conversation with my fellow inmates, Officer."

The hack looked around the table, and received blank stares and a couple of nods. "You give me trouble, and you'll end up in the hole. Understand?"

Ryan nodded. "No trouble. None at all. In fact-" Ryan stood up, taking his tray with him. "I was just leaving."

"Good idea, O'Reily," the hack said as he walked away.

One of the Nazis grabbed Ryan's arm. "We don't work for no faggot, O'Reily."

Ryan shrugged. "I never said you did, but it's not me you have to convince." He looked around the room, slowly. "Lots of people have a different opinion."

Another guy banged his fist on the table. "We'll show all those faggots and Spicks."

"I'm sure you will." Ryan smiled as he left the table. They sure would, and he was relying on it.

* * *

**Part 5 - Anatomy of a Day**

**Prompt 031. Sunrise: 6:00 am**

Ryan woke up with a gasp. Em City was still enveloped in darkness, but he wouldn't be able to rest anymore. Goddamn nightmares! Cyril seemed to have taken permanent residence in his dreams. 

He could see the last moments: the hood over his head, the foam in his mouth, the eyes going wide. Sister Pete thought that he needed to talk about his feelings. He thought that if they had just let him see his brother's death, he wouldn't be spending his nights wondering if that was what had really happened.

He went to the sink and splashed his face with water. He stared at himself. He looked horrible. Hell, he felt horrible. Only 6 am, and it was already a shitty day.

**Prompt 089. Work: 10:20 am**

Miguel sighed, as he tried to avoid Torquemada. The man simply didn't know when to quit. They were in the middle of the infirmary, and Alonzo was sitting on an empty bed, chatting away. Unfortunately, the only topic of conversation was one Ryan O'Reily.

"He's up to something," Alonzo said for the millionth time.

"The Mick is always up to something," Miguel answered as he helped an inmate with his pillows. "Look, do you see that ugly blue scrubs you're wearing? They give it to you when you work here. Maybe you can start doing some of the work, and leave me alone."

Alonzo got close, and rested his splayed fingers over Miguel's chest. "Oh querido, I know he's a scheming bastard, but you must have some ideas."

Miguel grabbed Alonzo's wrists and pulled him away. "How many times do I have to tell you? I've got nothing to do with O'Reily. And now, I have work to do." He pushed past Alonzo and went to make a bed. It was still morning, and this was turning out to be a shitty day.

**Prompt 057. Lunch: 11:14 am**

A bicker reached the serving table. He leaned toward O'Reily. "Any luck getting tits?"

Ryan shook his head. "I told you. Nothing is moving, nothing but D. You should talk to those fucking Aryans in the mail room."

The biker shook his head. "Schillinger was a dick, but he knew how to run the Brotherhood."

Ryan nodded, but said nothing. However with his eyes, he found Torquemada. "Too bad a fag is running the Brotherhood now," he finally said.

A hack banged on the rail. "Keep it moving."

"Sorry, man," Ryan said, as the man started to walk away. "I'll see what I can do."

"Hey, O'Reily." Pancamo's voice reached Ryan over the noise in the room.

Ryan put down his spoon, and walked to the back of the kitchen. "Yes?"

"We have tits," Pancamo said.

Ryan smiled. "I know that, but they don't."

Chucky shook his head. "I hope you know what you're doing, because tits are coming in."

"You said a week, and it's only been five days," Ryan pointed out. "It's going to get done. Don't worry about it."

"It'd better," Chucky said before moving away.

Ryan sighed. These bastards were taking way too long to kill Torquemada. Fuck, this day couldn't get any worse.

**Prompt 018. Black: 12:48 pm**

"What the fuck happened to you?" A skinhead asked a fellow Aryan.

The inmate stood there, lips swollen and bloody, a black eye, and several bruises on his arm. "Fucking bikers. They called me a cocksucker, said we're sucking up to that faggot Torquemada, doing his dirty work. What was I supposed to do? I punched one, and they attacked me."

"We gotta do something. We can't let these fuckers think that we take orders from that goddamn faggot," another member said.

Fred Schuster, the newest leader of the Brotherhood, nodded. He was still trying to get respect after Schillinger's death and this would be the perfect way. "We do it today."

Schuster grinned evilly. This was going to be a great day.

**Prompt 035. Sixth Sense: 2:37 pm**

Miguel felt the change before he saw anything strange happen. As he was training on the punching bag, he began to look around. All the faces around them had turned really white, really fast. 

He pulled his gloves off, and walked to Torquemada, who was sitting and watching, but making no attempts to exercise. "C'mon, we gotta go," Miguel said as he grabbed Alonzo's arm and pulled him up.

"What's the matter, querido?"

"What's the matter? Have you looked around? Even the hacks have disappeared." Without further discussion, he pulled Alonzo toward the exit, only to find the way blocked by two skinheads.

"Hey, we ain't looking for trouble," Miguel said, spreading his arms in a peace offering.

"But we are. But don't you worry, Spick, you'll be too dead to worry."

Miguel steadied himself for the fight that was coming. He'd escaped death one too many times, and it looked like today he was going to meet his maker. Hell, he had known in the morning that this was going to be a shitty day.

**Prompt 076. Who?: 3:02 pm**

The alarm went off throughout Oz. Inmates were quickly pushed into their cells and pods as one words resonated through the halls.

"Lock down!" Murphy yelled in Em City. 

Ryan got up from his chair, smiling at Pancamo as they made their way upstairs. 

"I don't know how you do it, O'Reily," Pancamo remarked casually.

"Me?" Ryan shrugged. "I don't know what you're talking about," he said innocently, before giving Pancamo a wicked grin, and getting into his pod.

He waited until everyone was locked up, before standing by the glass. He surveyed Em City, looking into every pod. Everyone was accounted for except...

"Fuck!" 

Alvarez wasn't there. He should be there. Only Torquemada was supposed to die. What the fuck had happened? Ryan banged on the glass. Fifteen hours before these doors would open again. Fifteen hours before he could find out what had really happened. Fifteen hours to sit and contemplate what a shitty day it had been.

* * *

**Part 6 - Prompt 087. Life: Another Dawn**

Ryan rushed through breakfast, preparing the trays as quickly as it was possible without making an utter mess in the process. He loaded the cart. "I'm off," he said to no one in particular.

Pancamo walked closer to Ryan, and whispered. "Make sure that Torquemada is dead. If he's not, find a way to make it happen, and today. Tits are coming tomorrow."

Ryan nodded. "Consider it done. You just make sure you talk to those fucking Aryans. We don't want trouble there."

Chucky snorted. "Don't worry about those motherfuckers. They'll be taken care of, and today."

Ryan tipped his head with two fingers, and left the cafeteria. Without even thinking, he changed his daily routine. Fuck those bastards in isolation; they could wait. He had other business first.

He headed straight for the infirmary. He scanned the beds, and he felt relief when he didn't see Torquemada there. The bastard was dead. However, the feeling was momentary. He couldn't see Alvarez either.

He shook his head. What the fuck was his obsession with Alvarez anyway? The Spick didn't mean anything to him, just one more casualty in the constant war for control of Oz. Besides, it wasn't his fault. He'd warned Alvarez to stay away from Torquemada. The stupid Spick should have listened to him. No, it wasn't his fault. Still, a little voice kept speaking up, nagged him. He didn't like to kill, not unless it was necessary. Alvarez's death had not been necessary.

"Are you gonna stare or you feed us, O'Reily?" asked one of the inmates.

"Fuck you," Ryan replied without even thinking, but began handing out the trays. 

He saw Gloria coming out of her office. She looked tired, and Ryan knew that she never deal well with the deaths of the inmates, even when it wasn't her fault. "Hey."

She looked up at him and smiled. "Hey."

"You okay?"

She nodded. "It's been a long night." She rubbed her face. "God, it's already morning."

Ryan frowned. Lock down had occurred in the early afternoon, so why had she spent the night here? "I heard that people had died..."

She took a deep breath. "Torquemada died, multiple stab wounds, among the many other injuries. You wouldn't happen to know what happened, would you?"

He raised his hands. "Hey, I was in Em City when it happened. You can ask the hacks."

"Okay," she said softly. "I just...I can't believe Miguel got hurt again."

"Hurt? He ain't dead?"

It was Gloria's turn to frown. "No, he's in a private room, because of his injuries. I wanted to minimize the risk of infection." She paused for a beat. "Why would you think he was dead?"

"He wasn't back in his pod for lock down, and then the rumors." Ryan shrugged. "You know how this place is. News travel fast, and they aren't always accurate."

She studied him for a moment. "I've never known you to have less than reliable information."

Ryan grinned. "And that's why I'm talking to you. So I can have reliable information."

She shook her head, and smiled. "You're incorrigible."

"So... is he okay?"

She sighed again. "He had internal damage, and two cracked ribs. It'll take a while for him to be okay, but he's alive. How he will react to this? I don't know."

"Do you think I could see him?"

She was on the alert again, hands on the pockets of her coat, body tense. "Why? You didn't have something to do with this, did you?"

"Fuck, no," he said narrowing his eyes. "Something happens in this place and it's my fault now? Well, I swear on my brother that I didn't do it or ordered it done. It's that good enough for you." 

Gloria relaxed a little. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have jumped to conclusion. It's just... Look, I don't know why you want to see Miguel, I should really say no, but maybe you can talk to him, convince him to tell us who did this to us."

Ryan snorted. "He's not that stupid, Gloria. He talks and he's dead. We both know that."

She nodded, resigned. "Fine, go, but only a few minutes. He needs to rest."

He grabbed her arms, and squeezed them gently. "Thank you, Gloria." Resisting the urge to kiss her, he went to the private room. He closed the door gently, before moving to the bed. His fingers brushed against the blankets, as he watched Alvarez sleep.

Miguel turned his head, and opened his eyes. "These drugs must be even better than I thought, 'cause I'm seeing things," he asked in a weak voice.

Ryan snorted. "No, it's not the drugs."

"Yeah, you're right. Miss Sally would be here if they were good drugs. Still, I don't feel no pain." He closed his eyes for a moment, breathing slowly. "What are you doing here?" 

"Wanted to see how you were doing." Ryan mentally cursed himself. How the hell was Alvarez supposed to believe that?

The look on Miguel's face showed his disbelief. "Yeah? Wanted to see if I was dead?"

Ryan leaned closer. "I told you to stay away from him. Why did you think I told you that?"

"I don't know, maybe that you were hoping to ask me out." Miguel laughed weakly, but it soon turned into a cough.

Ryan went to his side, helping him sit up. "You're an idiot, Alvarez," he said as he held Miguel until the fit passed. "Gloria said you'll be okay in a few days."

"Yeah? And then? I can be released so I can watch my back all the times. I'm tired of this shit, O'Reily."

"You won't have to," Ryan replied. "It won't take long before people forget, and you still have El Norte."

Miguel let out a mirthless laugh before closing his eyes. "You've started to believe in fairy tales, O'Reily?"

Ryan sighed. "Okay, then *I'll* watch your back." He helped Miguel rest back against his pillow. "You get some sleep, you hear. I'll be back."

Miguel nodded weakly, but he opened his eyes before Ryan could leave. "O'Reily, I don't know why you're doing this, but thank you."

"No problem, man." Ryan left the room swiftly, wondering himself why he was willing to help Alvarez. Insanity seemed to be the only explanation.

* * *

**Part 7 - Prompt 027. Parents: Ode To Joy**

Ryan went straight for the stage. He rested his arms on the piano, and listened to his mother play. She finished the piece before looking up at Ryan. "It's good to see you, Ryan."

"Yeah, look, I know I haven't been around, but-"

"That's all right, Ryan. You needed time alone; I understand," she said with a smile. She patted the bench near her. "Come, sit with me."

"All right, but no singing," Ryan answered with a smirk. 

Her fingers began to move over the keys, and the melancholic notes of Beethoven's Pathetique filled the empty room. "So, how are you, Ryan?"

"Oh, I'm fine. I mean I'm locked up, no possibility of parole, my father is a son of a bitch, my brother is dead, and... oh yeah, I'm going insane." He turned to Suzanne and grinned. "Other than I'm just peachy, Ma."

Suzanne stopped abruptly, and turned to her son. She ran her fingers down Ryan's cheek, smiling softly. "You are not crazy, Ryan. I know things can get... they are difficult in Oz, but that doesn't mean you're insane."

"That's what I thought, but..." Ryan sighed. He really needed to talk to someone, and there was no one he trusted in this place. Once upon a time, Cyril would have been the one who'd listen to all of his problems and doubts, but that ended with the accident. After that, Ryan had to worry that Cyril would repeat what he had heard, so he'd kept everything to himself. Now, he had the chance to speak to his mother, a woman he didn't know until recently, a woman who had left him with an abusive father, but still his mother, and he needed someone to listen without judging.

"There is a guy who got hurt," Ryan started.

"Alvarez, right?" she asked.

Ryan frowned. "How do you... Oh fuck, right, since someone got hurt, it's my fault. What were you doing? Trying to get information for the Warden?"

Suzanne laughed. "Ryan, you're not insane, but you are paranoid. I do actually speak with these people. You know Gloria, and Tim, and Sister Pete, and others. Nothing is a secret in this place, you know that."

Ryan rubbed his face, showing just how tired he was. "I'm sorry. It's just... everyone's been asking me if I had anything to do with it." He raised his eyes and stared at his mother. "I did not want him hurt."

"But you had something to do with it," she answered softly.

He shook his head. "Not really. It wasn't me, or directly because of me. It was going to happen, y'know? Torquemada had pissed too many people to stay alive much longer. I might have... I might have said a few things, sped things along, but I never told anyone to kill him, and I did not want Alvarez hurt in the process."

"So you are going insane because he got hurt?" she tried.

"Nah, he's going to be fine," Ryan said as if that was never a concern. Then he stood up and began pacing on the stage. "No, I'm going insane because I care that he got hurt."

Suzanne tried to follow Ryan's reasoning, but she was failing miserably. "How is that a bad thing?"

"Because it's wrong," Ryan declared. "You don't care about people in Oz. You care about family, about business...hell, you even care about people in your group, because it's never good to lose a man, but you do NOT care about another guy."

She took a deep breath, trying to find the right words. "I don't know, Ryan. It seems to me that it's never wrong to care about someone." She raised a hand to stop his reply. "I know people tell you that it is, especially to care about another guy, but life..." She shook her head. "Life in Oz is difficult enough, and if you stop caring, you stop living. No, you're not going insane, Ryan; you're being human, and that's what you have to hold on to in this place. If you lose your humanity, you've lost what makes you 'you'."

She got up, and hugged him. "I know it's hard, Ryan. Feeling something for someone makes you weak, but it also makes you alive," she whispered in his ear.

"Yeah, I cared about Gloria and we know how well that turned out."

Suzanne pulled back, and framed Ryan's face with her hands. "Cared about... that's what you just said. I think it's the first time that I've heard you admit that it's in the past. Maybe, now that you're ready to accept that..."

"Oh no," Ryan shook his head, violently. "It's not the same thing. I don't want to fuck- sorry, Ma, but I don't want to have sex with Alvarez."

"So what do you want?" she asked gently.

"Nothing. I want nothing from him, it's just..." Ryan pulled away again, pacing, unable to stay still. He couldn't think when he was still. "I look at him, and he's got this look... like he's lost... like Cyril used to look after the accident. I can't let someone else died like that."

"So this...what you feel is about brotherly love?" she said with an amused smile.

"Nooooo..." Ryan stopped and sighed. "All right, I have no idea what it is, and if I did, I wouldn't be going insane, would I? The only thing I know is that I can't see him die."

Suzanne smiled gently. "You know, it's possible that you just feel friendship or kinship. It doesn't have to be more than that."

"There is no such thing, Ma, not in this place. You either have a reason to care or you don't. Friendship or kinship don't exist in Oz," Ryan explained.

"If you say so, but Ryan..." She went closer and squeezed his arm. "Whatever you do, promise me that you'll be careful, that you won't do anything stupid."

Ryan snorted. "Why do you think I'm here in the first place? I wasn't careful and I was stupid. I can promise you that I'll figure out why the fuck I'm going insane."

Her response was a gentle laugh. "All right, Ryan, and if you need to talk, I'm always here."

"Thanks." He leaned in and kissed her cheek. "Gotta go, I'll see you later."

"Bye, Ryan." Suzanne watched him go with a smile on her face, before she returned to the piano. Her thoughts were still filled with the conversation. She didn't know what Ryan had found, but whatever it was made him look alive again, in a way that he hadn't been since Cyril's death. She found herself playing the 9th symphony by Beethoven. Even in Oz, there were reasons to hear an Ode to Joy.

* * *

**Part 8 - Prompt 077. What?: Bumpy Roads.**

Ryan avoided the infirmary for the next few days, passing off his kitchen duty to one of the homeboys working there. He needed to think about what had happened. He appreciated his mother's advice, but she really had no idea what was going on inside these walls. 

Finally, aware that he wasn't getting closer to an answer, he returned to his normal routine, and with that came Alvarez.

Ryan knocked on the door of the private room, before opening with a hand, tray in the other. "Hey."

Miguel opened his eyes when he heard the familiar voice. "O'Reily, I thought you were dead."

"Tsk, tsk, you think I'd die so easily." Ryan rested the tray on the table, and rolled it closer. "So how are you doing?"

"Bored like hell." Miguel winced as he tried to sit. He wrapped one arm around his chest. 

"C'mon, let me give you a hand." Ryan cursed himself as the words escaped him, but once again, he found himself with his arms around Alvarez, helping him. 

"Shit, this hurts, my chest hurts, my head hurts, my stomach hurts. Fuck, I'm a mass of pain." Miguel tried to settle against the pillows, breathing slowly to stop the pain. "I'm okay, thanks. So where have you been? You missed rounds a few days," Miguel said as he began to push the watery eggs around.

Ryan went to the end of the bed, and gripped the foothold. "Business. You know how it is."

"Right, a man is dead, power shifts. It must be a good time for you."

"It's always a good time for me," Ryan answered, already on the defensive. "But if you're accusing me of something..."

"O'Reily, I'm too fucking tired to argue with you. Save the crap for McManus. I know you too well to know what you've done and what you have not done. I also know you would have never dirtied your hands with Torquemada. So spare me the bullshit."

"You know me so well," Ryan said with a roll of his eyes.

Miguel put down his fork and looked at the other inmate. "I thought I did, but here's the catch, I could swear that you were here when I first woke up. Of course, it must have been my imagination, 'cause you'd never be here, offering your help, right, baby?" He cocked his head as he said the last word.

Ryan gripped the footboard so hard that his knuckles turned white. Shit, Alvarez remembered, he had convinced himself that he was safe, that the Spick would never remember. Well, that was shot to hell. It was time to change strategy. "Maybe, you don't know me as well as you think." Right, keep it vague, and confuse the other man. That usually worked well.

There was an awkward pause, but when Alvarez spoke again, it was clear that he was not going to push. "Bro, no one knows you as well as they think. You're one slick motherfucker."

Ryan laughed, relaxing a little. "I'll take that as a compliment."

"It is. You're gonna sit around, watching us die, while you get old. You'll be like Rebadow."

Ryan snorted. "I don't think so, man. I don't want to get stuck with someone like Busmalis."

Miguel's laugh turned into a suffering cough. "God, someone kill me."

"I think they tried that, but you have more lives than a fucking cat."

"I'm running out of them," Miguel answered seriously. "How are things out there? How's El Norte?"

"How do you think? Guerra is still too weak, and the rest... they are all feeling the effect of forced detox." Ryan shook his head. "It's not a pretty sight."

"Gee, thanks for softening the blow," Miguel answered, sarcasm dripping from his voice.

"The truth, bad and good, will keep you alive. Know what's going on and then you can manipulate things to your advantage," Ryan replied in a business like tone.

"Are you giving me advice, man? 'Cause from the way I see it, you're stuck in here just like me." Alvarez pushed away the table. "You know what, just get the fuck out, and let me get some sleep."

Ryan frowned, as he walked the length of the bed. "What the fuck are you on, Alvarez?"

"Lots of wonderful drugs," Alvarez replied without thinking.

"Yeah? They must be fogging your fucking brain, you asshole. You asked me a question, and I gave you a fucking answer, a real answer." He put a hand next to Alvarez's face as he leaned closer. "What the hell is your problem? I'm telling you how things are so you can stay alive."

"Yeah, see, that's my problem. I still don't understand what your angle is, O'Reily. What the fuck do you want from me?"

Ryan jerked up at the very question he'd been asking himself for weeks. "I don't want anything."

Miguel snorted. "That's impossible; you always want something. Maybe something El Norte can do for you..."

"Oh Jesus Christ, you are an idiot. Guerra is so high he can't remember the days of the week. The rest are even worse, and when their little stash of D is gone, they'll be in their personal hell. And you, shit, you can't even walk without help."

Alvarez pondered that for a moment. "Then there is only one thing," he said, spreading his arms.

"Fuck you, Alvarez." 

"That's the idea, O'Reily."

"Well, it's not mine. Someone helps you and you think he wants to put his dick up your ass? That's Torquemada's style, not mine. In fact, when did you ever see me with a guy?" he asked.

"Stop moving your hands. You're starting to look like Pancamo, man. In fact, stop moving; you're making me dizzy."

"Yeah, and you're pissing me off. I'm helping, and I don't got a reason, okay?"

"O-kay."

"I know it's stupid, fucking insane, but there it is. I don't want anything in return," Ryan finished.

Miguel chuckled. "You're crazy, man."

"Yeah," Ryan said as he set at the end of the bed, "why is that?"

"Lots of people have tried to help: Dr. Nathan, Father Ray, Sister Pete." He shrugged. "I can't be helped."

Ryan smirked. "That's because they don't have my moves." He reached for the tray. "I gotta go back."

"I'll see you later," Miguel answered tentatively.

"Sure, five course lunch at 11:00 am." Ryan grinned, before strutting out of the room.

* * *

**Part 9 - Rumors**

**Prompt 025. Strangers: Masks**

Only a few hours later, Miguel founds himself being examined by Dr. Nathan. He kept looking at her, gathering the courage to ask the question that had been driving him insane. But how could you ask the woman whose husband had been killed about the killer?

Unaware of the inner turmoil Miguel was going through, Gloria finished her examination. She covered the wound again, before looking at him. "Another few days, and you'll be able to leave, Miguel."

"Yes, free to roam the halls of Oz. What a treat!"

She laughed. "Well, it must be better than being stuck here alone. Although Ryan is taking his time with your tray..."

"Don't ask, 'cause I don't got no answer for you, Doc."

"Ryan works in mysterious ways," she said amused.

Miguel propped himself up, looking at her. "You know him. Why would he be so friendly?"

"I doubt anyone knows Ryan. I think sometimes he hides things so well that he doesn't even know why does things." Hands on her coat, she sighed. "He's changed though. Between Cyril's death and his father's arrival, he's been acting differently." She shrugged. "Maybe he just wants to help. He can be very caring, even if he does his best not to let people know."

"Caring?" Miguel rolled his eyes. "Yeah, he's a true humanitarian."

Gloria laughed. "I wouldn't go so far." She patted Miguel's leg. "I'll see you later.

* * *

**Prompt 099. Writer's Choice: Speculations**

She couldn't stop thinking about Miguel and Ryan. Ryan could be caring, and also very obsessive, but what had started this... whatever this was? She opened the door of the lounge, and quickly looked to see who was there. Fortunately, she trusted the three people there. 

"Anyone knows what's going on with Ryan?" Gloria asked as she walked inside the lounge.

Murphy poured a cup of coffee before sitting at a table. "Anyone ever knows what's going on with him?"

"Has anything happened?" Sister Pete asked, worried.

"No, not really, but he's been spending a lot of time around the infirmary," Gloria answered.

Murphy chuckled. "And how is that strange?"

She shook her head, but smiled at him. "He's not coming to see me, he's been spending time with Miguel."

Ray frowned. "Do you think he's involved with Miguel's attack?"

"No," Murphy answered immediately. "That was the Aryans' doing. We can't prove it, but it was them."

"Sean is right," Gloria interjected. "Besides, Miguel isn't complaining about his presence."

"You know," Sister Pete started, "Ryan has been different since Cyril's death. Quiet, almost reserved. He didn't even want to see Suzanne for a while. Maybe this will be good for both of them."

"I hope," Gloria commented.

"Yeah, or one of them is going to end up dead," Murphy finished.

* * *

**Prompt 100. Writer's Choice: Suspicions**

Father Ray kept replaying the conversation in his head. Miguel had gone through so much, he didn't need to suffer again. Especially not at the hands of an opportunistic liar like O'Reily.

Without thinking, he found himself in the infirmary. He knocked on the door before peaking his head in. "May I come in?"

"Hey, Father. Sure, sure, c'mon in." 

"I'm sorry I didn't come earlier," Ray started.

Miguel waved a hand. "It's okay. I was probably too drugged up anyway."

Ray stood, hands together in front of him. He looked at his feet, before looking at Miguel again. He wasn't even sure why he was here, but he did need to let Miguel know that there were people who cared about him.

Miguel frowned. "What is it, Father? Is everything all right?"

"Yes, yes, it is. I wanted... I needed you to know that if you need help, I'm here for you."

"Father, thanks for the offer, but I'm fine." Miguel couldn't help the smile that formed on his face. "Strange, everyone wants to help me lately."

"Yes, about that...if you know your assailants, you don't have to talk to O'Reily. Revenge is never the answer," Ray said softly.

"Revenge? You think... Damn, Father, I didn't even think of that. I must be worse off than I thought." Miguel stretched his arms before bending them behind his head. "That's not a bad idea, but..." He looked at Father Ray and shrugged. "I don't remember who it was."

Ray didn't believe that for a moment, but Miguel's reaction about O'Reily was genuine enough. "So this isn't why you and O'Reily speak..."

"Father, I have no idea why we talk, but you'll be the first to know if I ever find out. How's that?"

Ray smiled. "As long as you are all right, that's all it counts. I'll see you later, Miguel."

"Goodbye, Father."

* * *

**Prompt 029. Birth: New Friendship**

Sister Pete mulled over the discussion they just had. She'd never really liked Ryan. He was as manipulative as Keller had been, but things had changed with Cyril. She got to see another side of Ryan O'Reily, a side he never showed anyone. Not that it really mattered, because Ryan had practically shut down after the execution, doing just enough to stay alive.

It was with these thoughts that she entered the cafeteria. She looked around, and spotted Ryan cleaning a table. She walked to his side. "Hello, Ryan."

He turned to her, still rubbing down the table. "Hello, Sister. Do you need anything?"

"We haven't spoken in a while," she started.

"Nothing to tell, Sister." He put down the rag he was using, and sat on the table, feet on the bench. "Look, whatever it is, I didn't do it. I've been clean, staying out of trouble. I haven't shanked anyone. So, is there anything else you want to know?"

Sister Pete smiled. "Well, that's comforting, but I'm not here to accuse you of anything. I wanted to make sure you were all right, nothing more."

Ryan rested his arms on his knees and leaned forward. "Sister, there is always more with you."

"You know me too well," she said with a laugh. "Okay, I heard about you and Miguel."

"There is no me and Alvarez, do you got that?" He stood up, and took two steps away from her before turning back. "I don't know what you've heard, but they're wrong."

"I heard that you are friends," she continued, ignoring his outburst. "It's nice that you're helping him."

"I'm not nice. I've brought him some food. That's my job."

"Then, I must have heard wrong, but if you were his friend, there wouldn't be anything wrong. We all need friends, especially in a place like Oz." She looked at him and smile. "I'll see you in group, yes?"

Ryan took a deep breath. "Maybe."

She nodded, knowing that it was the best she would get, and left. The conversation hadn't gone like she wanted, but then Ryan was always a little unpredictable, and yet, she had faith. Something in Ryan's voice and posture as he proclaimed himself not to be nice held something that hadn't been there recently: the need to protect something from probing eyes. Sister Pete hoped that it was a true friendship he was hiding.

* * *

**Prompt 044. Circle: Full Circle**

Ryan pushed the cart around the prison. He changed his routine, taking care of the hole, and isolation first, and leaving the infirmary for last. He walked from cell block to cell block, thinking about his meeting with Sister Pete. How the hell had she found out about his... his whatever with Alvarez? Two fucking trays, and the entire prison thinks there is something going on between them. Fuck, this was Torquemada's fault. He'd probably started the rumors just to piss Ryan off.

He pushed the cart into Alvarez's room, and shoved a tray on the table before sitting on the bed. "Too bad your boyfriend is dead, or I'd kill him myself."

"He wasn't my boyfriend," Miguel said with a sigh. "O'Reily, why can't you find someone else to annoy?"

"I'm not leaving until you tell me what the fuck you told sister Pete."

"Sister Pete?" Alvarez asked confused. "I haven't seen her in weeks."

"Yeah? So why in hell was she askin' me about us?" Ryan asked.

"There is no us."

"No shit, Sherlock."

Alvarez popped a chicken nugget in his mouth, and chewed slowly, knowing it would annoy O'Reily to wait. "You know that's really weird. Father Ray was here today, asking me questions. He thought I was hirin' you to kill the bastards that put me here."

Ryan considered the words and nodded in approval. "At least that makes some sense."

"I can take care of myself. I don't need no Mick to fight my fights."

Ryan smiled, amused. "Yeah, Tiger, you show them! Show everyone how you can walk without doubling over in pain. That alone should get your revenge," he said sarcastically. 

Miguel threw a nugget toward Ryan, hitting him right in the middle of his chest. "I got ways, baby," he said with a grin.

"Very impressive aim, Alvarez. Now you only need a gun. Maybe you could ask the dear Father to get you one."

Alvarez cocked his head. "So are you saying you'd kill them for me?"

"Are you fucking insane? No one is going down at the moment. Querns wants peace. The Aryans want to stay alive, and me... I just want things moving." Ryan put his hands on the cart as he pushed it toward the door. "Torquemada had to go. No one is gonna worry about him."

"And what about me? Anyone is gonna worry about me when I get out of here? Few more days and I'm back in Em City."

"I told you; no one is going to touch you." He paused for a moment. "I have a deal with the Italians. You'll be safe."

Miguel was about to ask why, why was O'Reily doing all of this, but he knew Ryan would avoid the question like he'd done before. He settled on a simple, "Thanks. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Yeah, it's a breakfast date." Ryan winked and left the room. On the way out, he saw Gloria. "Hey, listen." He abandoned the cart to reach her side. "Staff is acting strange, asking about me and Alvarez. If you had heard something, you'd tell me, right?"

She nodded, face open and honest, while she lied through her teeth. "Yeah, of course."

"Because McManus hates me; the mother-"

She stopped his rant by resting her fingers on his arm. "Tim hasn't said anything, but if he does, I'll let you know okay?" Not really a lie, certainly not the truth.

"Okay. Thanks, Gloria," he called over his shoulder as he left the infirmary.

Gloria looked at her watch and shook her head. Less than four hours and things had come full circle. She should have known better than to open her mouth. This was Oz, after all, and the only people who kept a secret were the dead.

* * *

**Part 10 - Prompt 072. Fixed: The Right Moves**

Ryan ran down the stairs, stopping in the center ramp. He put his hands on the rail, mimicking Murphy's position.

"What do you want, O'Reily?"

"Alvarez."

"Yeah? I'm not here to satisfy your sexual fantasies," Murphy stated evenly.

Ryan rolled his eyes. Anyone else would have been on his shit list for a comment like that, but Murphy had a way to make everything sound like a tease instead of an insult. "I was thinking," he started again.

"Do you ever stop?"

"Are you gonna let me finish a single sentence?"

"Nah, it's more fun this way. Besides you know I don't do 'asks' for the prisoners."

Ryan rested his arms on the rail, leaning down. His body was completely relaxed as he turned his head to look at Murphy. "The way I see it, it's more a mutually beneficial agreement. See, things in El Norte are too shaky, and you can't put Alvarez with one of them. After his...mmm... association with Torquemada no one else will be too pleased to have him around. He doesn't have the clout to protect his sorry ass, and it wouldn't take much for an accident to happen. On the other hand, I have no beef with him, and I've got the room."

"That's because your last ten cell mates suddenly asked to be transferred."

"McManus stops putting niggers and fags in my pod and they might last more than a few days," Ryan said coldly. "Alvarez would solve everyone's problems."

Murphy sighed. "All right, I'll talk to Tim, but only because I happen to agree with you. It's not an ask."

Ryan winked at him. "Glad to know that. Later." He went down the last ramp, his eyes moving around the room, scanning it as he made his descent. He saw Beecher sitting in front of the TV, but instead of watching Miss Sally, Beecher was looking at him. Ryan found a seat next to the lawyer and slumped down. He raised an eyebrow when he saw Beecher take off an earplug. "Yes?"

"So... that crazy thing you were doing..."

"Yeah?" Ryan asked a second time, unwilling to give up information for no good reason.

"You'd better be careful with Alvarez," Beecher answered.

"What the fuck is going on here? There ain't nothing between me and the Spick. How many times do I need to say it?" he hissed.

"Yeah, yeah, you're straight. We know that." Beecher leaned closer. "I'm not saying you're putting your cock up his ass. I'm saying a lot of people on staff like him. You go and screw with him, there are going to be problems."

"Look, I don't know what or where you heard-"

"I work for sister Pete, remember?"

"Whatever, I'm just saying that I ain't planning anything."

"Good to hear, because you're one of the few people I actually like." Beecher put back the earplug and turned his attention to the TV.

Murphy had followed the discussion from his post, wondering if O'Reily really had a hidden agenda. If he did, Murphy couldn't figure it out. Still holding a few doubts, he climbed the stairs and knocked on the door of McManus's office. "Hey, Tim, do you have a minute?"

Tim threw the pen on the table and stretched his arms. "Save me from this paperwork, please." He motioned toward a chair. "Take a seat, my friend."

Murphy closed the door behind him and sat down. "It's about Alvarez."

"What about him?"

"Gloria is releasing him in the morning, but he's still weak. She said even a minor fight could cause extensive damage."

McManus sighed. "I know, I've tried to convince her to keep him there for a little longer, but she needs the bed space."

"Don't we all," Murphy muttered. "We're running out of space ourselves... with Alvarez coming back. We already got two new inmates in his old pod."

"Guerra is by himself," Tim pointed out.

"He's too fuck up, Tim. We can't risk putting Alvarez there."

"Then we start shifting people around. We can put Alvarez with Beecher."

"Does that mean you're going to put Kennedy with O'Reily?"

"Not a chance in hell. I told you, he's not going to pick his new cellmate, and I'm not stupid enough to let him bunk with another Irishman. I'm not helping him run his cons."

Murphy snorted. "You just don't like him. Everyone is doing the same shit and you know it. Besides if you put Kennedy with someone else, his white Irish ass is toast, literally and figuratively. He's got no alliances, not even with the Irish. The only thing keeping the kid safe is Beecher."

Tim rubbed the back of his head. "I'm not giving in to him."

Murphy leaned forward. "Fine, then put Alvarez with O'Reily.

McManus snickered. "Do you remember what happened to the last ten people who stayed with O'Reily?"

"They're all alive, aren't they?" Murphy grinned as he remembered some of the creative ways O'Reily had used to get rid of his cellmates. "You put homeboys and fags with him. What else did you expect?"

"I don't understand why you like him," McManus said, shaking his head.

"I'm not dating Gloria?" Murphy asked with a raised eyebrow. "And this isn't about liking him. He's smart and he knows Alvarez is the best he's going to get from you. You put him with an Irish guy or an Italian, you're facilitating his business. You put him with someone he doesn't find acceptable, he'll find a way to get rid of that person. It also solves the question of where to put Alvarez. You put him with just about anyone at the moment, and chances are he'll end up dead. This is the best solution, Tim."

"Paperwork suddenly sounds much more alluring." McManus pressed the heel of his hands against his eyes. "All right," he finally said, "move Alvarez's stuff in O'Reilly's pod, but keep an eye on him, and tell him that if anything, anything at all happens to Alvarez, he's getting a one way ticket to Gen Pop."

"I'll let him know." Murphy returned to his post. "Hey, O'Reily, you need to move Alvarez's things to your pod. He's moving in."

Ryan resisted the urge to smirk as he got up. "I'm not his fucking maid," he yelled back instead. A few steps here, a few words there, and everything was just the way he wanted. God, he really was the Lord of the Fucking Dance.

* * *

**Part 11 - Prompt 090. Home: Welcome Home**

Miguel wasn't sure how he felt about going back to Em City. On one hand, he was tired of sitting around, with no one to talk to; on the other, things had seemed so empty before Alonzo had arrived, and now he was returning to his pod where there would be no Torquemada to make him feel alive.

He also had to worry about El Norte. Like it or not, he knew people would look at him to take charge, and after the recent shift of power, he wasn't sure that position would keep him alive.

He snorted to himself. Sure, he could always believe O'Reily's promise, but he'd stopped believing in Santa when he was six and saw his mama recycle the previous year's gifts to put under the tree.

Miguel watched the door close behind him as he entered Em City. Welcome home, Miguel, he thought as he went straight to his pod, only to stop when he saw it occupied. "Hey, Murphy, did you decide to send me home?" he asked with a grin.

"Ah ah, very funny, Alvarez. You're moving up." Murphy pointed toward the top pods. "With O'Reily."

Miguel raised his head, and saw O'Reily, who was currently leaning against the railing, watching everything that went on inside Em City. Finally his eyes settled on Miguel, giving away nothing. Let the games begin, Miguel thought.

He went up the stairs, ignoring the looks he was getting. He knew that everyone was watching; everyone wanted to know what the score was. With one move, O'Reily had forced his hand. Miguel wouldn't back down.

He went straight for O'Reily, pressing his body against Ryan's side. "How the fuck did you do this?" What he wanted to ask was why, why had Ryan gone through the trouble. 

Ryan turned, and stood slowly. Their bodies were almost touching, but neither man was willing to back down. Ryan grinned. "I told you I got moves." He dipped his head to whisper in Miguel's ear. "I said I'd take care of things."

Miguel realized that as close as they were, not an inch of their bodies was touching. Moves, all right. 

"Is there a problem there?" Murphy asked, wondering already if he'd made the right choice.

Miguel turned his head. "Nah, everything is fine."

"O'Reily?" 

"Everything is cool," Ryan answered without taking his eyes off from Alvarez.

"Then, step back, O'Reily. Now!"

Ryan spread his arms and raised an eyebrow as he took a step back. Murphy sighed, resigned. This was going to be hell, he thought, but there was nothing to be done now. Happy that things were okay for now, he turned his attention to the rest of the inmates.

"I don't understand you," Miguel muttered under his breath, before entering the pod. Ryan followed him, leaning against the wall, watching Miguel's every move.

"Lower bunk is mine?" Miguel asked when he saw that both beds were made.

"Of course."

"And you made my bed out of the goodness of your heart, ah? What did you do, poison the sheets or something?"

"You're a suspicious son of a bitch." Miguel cocked his head at Ryan's comment, as his brows flew up. Ryan smirked. "You might have a point there, but no murder attempts. Hacks thought you shouldn't move too much or some shit like that. We all know it's no good to bend over."

Miguel showed him a finger before going to the front of the pod. He leaned against the glass wall. His eyes moved from top to bottom, from left to right. "Shit, you can really see everything from this place."

Ryan stood behind him, leaning over his shoulder. The Irishman pointed downstairs, and as he did, his arm came into contact with Miguel's. "There are only two pods you can't see, one right there, behind the hacks' station, and the other is right beneath this pod."

Miguel mentally smiled. So this was how it was going to be, always on top of each other. He shouldn't have been surprised since O'Reily had no concept of personal space, and he really didn't mind the contact. Warmth meant he was still alive and feeling. 

He turned his head and could feel Ryan's breath on his face. Anyone else in Oz standing this close would either be fighting or fucking. Miguel had a feeling this was going to be the norm for most of their every day conversation. "It also means that there is always a shit load of people who can see you."

"You'd think that, but-" He tapped Miguel's arm before walking to the other side of the room. He slipped between the bunks and the wall, his back pressing against the concrete wall. He waved at Miguel. "Come here."

Curious, Miguel slipped in the tiny space, and once more found himself standing way too close to O'Reily. "What now? Are you gonna ask me to dance?"

"Turn around," Ryan ordered, ignoring the question.

"Wanna stab me in the back, O'Reily?"

"I'm not that stupid, Alvarez. All my killings are done outside my pod." He waved again toward the door. "Turn around and look outside."

Still not convinced, Miguel span around, and before he could even focus on what was in front of him, he felt Ryan's body glued against his back. When O'Reily spoke, his lips were so close that Miguel shivered. God, O'Reily had decided to torture him. There could be no other explanation.

"See? No one can see us in here. Not even the hacks," Ryan said, squeezing his shoulder. "There ain't a better place to conduct business. I think McManus figured it out and that's why he won't let any Irish in here, but look, it's perfect, isn't it?"

The sense of freedom, however minimal and the excitement in O'Reily's voice, should have thrilled him, but his mind couldn't concentrate on anything but the warmth behind him. If O'Reily didn't stop touching him, it would be impossible to remember that he was straight, that he didn't need another man's touch, and he certainly didn't need O'Reily's touch. Then again, O'Reily would remind him with a shank if he tried to act on those needs. "Yeah, perfect," he mumbled without really caring.

"Happy birthday, Alvarez."

Miguel could hear the smile even without looking at O'Reily. "It's not my birthday," he answered without turning.

"No, but this pod is the best gift you'll get in this place."

Miguel turned, only to find O'Reily's face a few inches away. Dios mio, he'd just figured out O'Reily's plan. The Mick was going to kill him with sexual frustration. Welcome home, indeed.

* * *

****

Ryan was lying on his bunk, looking through a travel magazine, but he kept getting distracted. He was beginning to rethink his decision of letting Alvarez stay in his pod. It was eight o'clock and Alvarez had been pacing since the doors had locked down for the night. Three fucking hours of pacing, and Ryan was ready to airhole the guy right here, in plain view.

Ryan turned another page of his magazine, trying to breath in and breath out in order to calm himself. "Sit down, Alvarez."

"It's too fucking quiet in here. It's worse than the infirmary. At least, Dr. Nathan gave me drugs there, but not here..."

Ryan sat up, and crawled forward until his legs were dangling from the bed. "Let me guess, she's afraid to give you anything because of the D and past history, and she's scared you'll get addicted."

"That's about it." Miguel rubbed his hands together, as he continued to pace through the room. "I'm not loco or anything, not like before, but if it gets too quiet... too much like Ad Seg, y'know?"

Ryan jumped down from his bed. "Sit the fuck down, Alvarez," he said as he grabbed Miguel's pillow and propped it against the wall. He sat sideways on Miguel's bed, only to glare at the other man, when Miguel continued his pacing. "Alvarez, are you stupid?"

"Stupid? No, but one of us has gone insane, and I don't think it's me," Alvarez answered.

"Just sit your ass down here. I wanna show you something." Ryan spread the magazine over his thighs.

"All right, what is it?" Miguel asked as he sat shoulder to shoulder with Ryan.

"I'm trying to figure out the perfect place to live. Of course, Ireland was my first idea, right?" Ryan started.

Miguel frowned. "You're loco, bro. You ain't going nowhere."

"I'll worry about that later," Ryan said. "First, I have to find the place where I'm gonna live. So as I was saying before you interrupted me with your stupid comments, at first I thought of Ireland. It's the land of my ancestors, and all that bullshit, but then I thought, what the fuck am I going to do in a place with so much green? So I thought of Ibiza. Nice beaches, lots of partying, lots of discos, and where there are discos and parties, there are tits."

"You don't do drugs, so why do you care?" Miguel asked, before he could stop himself. This was insane. It wasn't like they were going anywhere.

"I don't, but lots of people do. What's the point of finding the perfect place if there are no business opportunities? See, I could make a fortune, while drinking margaritas and getting a tan."

Miguel chuckled. "So you found the perfect place."

"Well, no, 'cause I don't speak Spanish. How the fuck am I going to run a business if I can't understand what people are saying?" Ryan turned his head. "See, it's not as easy to find the perfect spot. I've gone through so many magazines, and I haven't found the perfect city yet. I could tell you about a few of the places that were almost perfect."

Miguel nodded grateful. He lolled his head back, and closed his eyes, listening as O'Reily explained why Monte Carlo was good, but not as good as Casablanca, and why the Caribbean were not as good (too close to the US), and why Sidney was almost at the top of his list. The stream of words kept him company even if he only paid attention to half of what O'Reily was saying, because the man surely could talk.

When Ryan stopped, Miguel opened his eyes again. "So you found the perfect place?"

"Fuck, no. After six years, I still haven't found it, and you want to find it in one night."

"So why are you stopping?" Miguel asked.

"It's lights out in a minute." Ryan chuckled, when he saw Alvarez look at the watch in shock. He slipped out of the bed, and went to his cot. He popped his head to the side as the lights went out. "This'll take time. You'll have to suck it up and listen to me."

"I always knew you liked to hear yourself talk," Alvarez shot back. He heard the spring squeak as O'Reily settled back down. "Thank you," he said in the dark.

"You're welcome."

* * *

**Part 13 - Prompt 084. He: Memories**

During the days, they avoided each other; they both needed some space after spending thirteen hours locked in the same pod. Ryan was always busy, running and listening, plotting and selling. Miguel spent his time between visits to the infirmary and sister Pete and Em City. He was actually hoping that they would allow him to work very soon. 

To McManus's surprise, they still hadn't killed each other or even threatened to do it. Instead, Ryan and Miguel had settled into a comfortable evening routine with Ryan talking about the search for the perfect city, and Miguel listening quietly. 

Nights, however, were never easy in Oz. In the dark, trapped minds relived the horrors witnessed during the days. Nights were when you pretended to sleep and not hear the nightmares that invaded your pod mate's dreams.

Ryan had never been good at ignoring nightmares, not after having spent years listening for any noises from his brother's bunk. The first night Alvarez woke up, he pretended to sleep. The second night, he asked: "Are you okay?" His answer was a growled: "I'm fine; go back to sleep." Ryan did.

The third time, Ryan stared in the dark, using the faint lights from outside to watch Alvarez. Even in the darkness, he could see that Alvarez was shaken and jumpy. "Are you having one of those panic attacks?"

"Nah, just... you know dreams. Go back to sleep, O'Reily."

Ryan almost did, but he couldn't do this every night. It reminded him too much of Cyril. He jumped from his bunk and landed in front of Alvarez. "Wanna talk about it?"

Alvarez rested his arms on Ryan's shoulder. "Baby, you don't want to know."

"If it stops you from waking me every fucking night..." Ryan trailed off with a shrug.

Alvarez tensed. "Even if I told you, you'd listen, but you wouldn't hear. Do you know why? 'Cause you don't give a shit about people."

"Try me."

"You wanna know so badly?" Miguel challenged. He grabbed Ryan's shirt and pulled him into the dark corner of the pod. He slammed Ryan against the wall, before cupping Ryan's face, before crushing his lips against Ryan's. Pouring all of the anger and frustration that had been building inside him, he licked and bit until he could taste blood in his mouth. Then, it hit him. He was behaving no better than those animals, and all the anger evaporated. Miguel pulled back, and rested his forehead against Ryan. "I was the only one to fuck him, did you know that? And those bastards... they raped him... they raped him and beat him, 'cause killin' him wasn't enough."

"Alvarez..."

"Shut the fuck up, O'Reily," Miguel hissed. "You wanted to know, and you will. I remember lying on the fucking floor, bleeding, hurting. They were hurting him, and I couldn't do a fucking thing to stop them. I had to lie there, and look into his eye. I could see the fear there, the pain..." He shook his head. "He had no fucking idea, O'Reily. He thought with some pills, he could turn Oz into a party place. He never imagined that there could be scum bags like... like you and me around him." He rubbed his face with his hand. "He never stood a chance, and I could have helped, but I was too busy getting high."

Ryan was still shaken from the kiss, but he couldn't bring himself to spit out his usual line about being straight. Instead, he cupped Miguel's face, and held him close. "You couldn't have helped him; you know how business works in here, and he knew too. He wasn't such an innocent guy." 

"I should have tried anyway," Miguel whispered.

"You would be dead now." Without thinking, he kissed the top of Miguel's head. "C'mon, you need some sleep."

Miguel pulled back, and stared at Ryan. "You go ahead. I can't..."

"Shh, I know you can, because I have the perfect cure." With a hand behind Miguel's back, Ryan guided him to the bed. He wrapped the blankets around Miguel, before sitting on top of them. 

"What are you doing?" Miguel asked.

"Keeping you company until you can sleep... I used to do it with..." Ryan took a deep breath. "Cyril never slept well. I told him stories."

Miguel shook his head at the weirdness of the situation. "You're gonna tell me how we're gonna live happily ever after?"

"Hey, I can make anyone believe anything," Ryan said, brushing Miguel's hair, "but you know how things are. The sooner you accept it, the sooner you admit that there was no way you could have protected him, the sooner you'll sleep."

Miguel should have moved away, but instead he found himself moving closer, until he was resting his head on Ryan. "About before... sorry, man."

"Next time I'm gonna kill you, but it's okay."

Miguel looked up and grinned. "You're expecting a next time?"

Ryan mirrored the grin. "I expect anything in this place. After all, who would have imagined to two of us in the same bunk."

"Alonzo did," Miguel said softly. 

Ryan bit any reply about the crazy faggot; instead he shrugged. "Maybe he did understand a few thing about Oz. Now, let me get some sleep."

"Sure." Miguel didn't know how long it took him to fall asleep, but for the first time in months, he was able to sleep without drugs or Torquemada.

* * *

**Part 14 - Moving Forward**

**Prompt 075. Shade: Shades of Truth**

Ryan got out of his pod, and his eyes went to where Alvarez was standing. The man was leaning against the glass wall, hand on his stomach, lifting up his shirt. He smiled lazily. 

Fuck, the man looked good like that, Ryan was willing to admit that, at least to himself. "What the fuck has gotten you so happy?"

"I'm back on work duty."

"Oh shit, I forgot to buy the champagne to celebrate," Ryan said sarcastically.

Miguel strutted toward Ryan, and rested an arm on Ryan's shoulder. "I don't care if I have to clean bed pans the entire day. I'm finally getting out of Em City."

"Would you stop that?" Ryan hissed.

"What?" Miguel asked with a frown.

"This. The posing, the touching. There are enough rumors without you... giving them a reason to talk."

Miguel chuckled. "I think I've given them plenty of reason to talk. This is the least of my worries."

"I'm not a faggot."

Miguel pulled back. "You're such a shit head, O'Reily. What the fuck do you care about what they say?" he growled. "You don't have a problem with the touching when we're in our pod."

"They aren't watching then."

"Oh, of course. You couldn't possibly be seen with fuck ups like me." Miguel shook his head. "Whatever, O'Reily."

Ryan resisted the urge to shake the other man. He knew everyone's eyes were on them, or at least it felt that way. He tried to help the Spick and this was the result. "That has nothing to do with it, asshole. If that was the problem, you wouldn't be in this pod. You can't show any weaknesses in this place, when are you going to learn that?"

"Yeah, yeah, anything you say." Miguel winked. "See you later, baby."

Ryan shook his head, hiding his smile. God, Miguel was going to be the death of him.

"O'Reily!"

Then again, McManus might be worse. The man could kill you with his suffered looks and stupid speeches. Ryan turned to face him from across the room. "What do you want, McManus?"

"Get in here," he said, returning to his office without waiting for Ryan.

Ryan flaunted across the walkway, until he reached the office. He entered and plopped down on a chair. He looked at his nails as he waited for McManus to speak.

"What the hell was that all about?" McManus asked after a moment.

"I don't know what you mean," Ryan said with false innocence.

"Cut the crap, O'Reily." McManus perched himself on the desk. "You, Alvarez and that little display. You haven't hurt him; you haven't tried anything," he said, his surprise showing clearly in his voice.

Ryan looked up and smirked. "What? You wanted me to kill him?"

"That's not what I'm saying and you know it."

"What are you saying, McManus? 'Cause I don't have a clue."

"I'm saying that you only keep people close if there is something in it for you, and he's not running any schemes for you, so..."

Ryan sighed exasperated. "So what do you think I *use* him for? I'm no fucking cocksucker, McManus."

"Maybe you aren't doing the cock sucking," McManus answered.

"Look, our pod is probably the only one where there is no cock sucking, no touching, no fucking." Ryan stood up, letting the chair fall backwards. "You start looking somewhere else, I'd bet you'll find some real cock sucking, and now I have work to do." 

"I'm watching you, O'Reily," McManus warned.

A smile formed slowly on Ryan's face. "I know I'm irresistible, but you're not my type. Bye, McManus."

* * *

**Prompt 028. Children: Fathers and Sons**

Miguel had watched Ryan disappear in McManus's office. A part of him wondered what it was all about. He almost stayed behind to find out, but the lure of being anywhere that wasn't here was too much.

He went straight to the infirmary. It was relaxing to do have a routine that didn't include people staring at you 24/7, wondering what the hell was going on. No matter what O'Reily believed, he was well aware that the denizens of Em City were wondering what was happening between him and O'Reily. Unlike O'Reily though, he was certain that everyone was more concerned about possible alliances and power shifts than whether they were fucking or not.

Thoughts of O'Reily left him quickly as he entered the infirmary. From the moment he entered, there were things to do, and he found it relaxing to lose himself in real work.

He was busy carrying supplies when he felt someone tap his shoulder. He almost dropped the box he was holding and reached for his shank, but Mineo was only a few steps away. Still Miguel turned around, ready for a fight. He relaxed when he saw who it was. "Hi, Pa."

Eduardo pushed a paper in front of Miguel. *Put that down, and follow me.*

"Okay, that's clear enough." Miguel waited for Mineo to move along before following his father into a supply closet. "What's up?"

The paper was shoved in front of his face again. *Are you okay?*

"Yeah, sure, Dr. Nathan wouldn't let me come back until I was-"

Eduardo shook his head. He pulled out the pen and began writing again. A single word: *O'Reily*.

"Dios mio, not you too. I'm fine. There's nothin' going down between me and O'Reily, okay?" Miguel scratched the back of his head. "What have you heard, Pa?"

*You and him* Eduardo erased the words, before starting again. *He's protecting you 'cause you're his...*

Miguel could see his father's hand shaking, but it was nothing compared to the anger he felt. He grabbed his father's hand. "What? I'm his prag? Afraid I'm gonna ruin the Alvarez's name?"

Eduardo pulled away angrily, and began scribbling once more. *Is he treating you okay?*

"Pa, I'm NOT his prag. I'm no one's prag. O'Reily and me are friends. Nothing more, nothing less. Do you understand?"

Eduardo nodded, but he went for the paper again. *As long as he keeps you safe.*

Miguel sighed as all the happiness he'd felt in the morning evaporated quickly. "Pa, I don't need him to keep me safe, okay? Look, I gotta go." He left the closet, and found Dr. Nathan. "Hey, Doc, I'm feelin' tired. You know my ribs, and all. Mind if I go back to Em City."

Gloria smiled. "No, that's fine, Miguel. I should have thought about a less strenuous beginning. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Yeah, okay." Miguel left as quickly as he had arrived. He couldn't face his father just yet, not when he was convinced that he was O'Reily's prag. Maybe the Mick had been right, maybe the truth wasn't as important as what people believed.

* * *

**Part 15 - Prompt 060. Drink: Celebrations**

For once, Miguel was happy when the clock reached five pm, and they could retreat in the safety of their pods, away from wondering eyes. He chose to sit on his furthest side of his bed, knowing that very few people could see him there.

O'Reily slid beside him without an invitation. "Who rained on your fucking parade?"

Miguel turned his head, and sighed. "My father thinks I'm your prag. My fucking father asked me...And if you say anything, I'll beat the shit out of you."

Ryan snorted. "Fine, I won't mention how I warned you about giving people the wrong image, or how rumors spread faster than fire in this place. Not a fucking word."

Miguel slapped him without too much force. "Fucking thing is he doesn't even care. He said that as long as you keep me safe...like I'm some kid who needs protection. He doesn't think I can't take care of myself."

"You can, you're still alive, and with all the people that have tried to shank you, that's a fucking accomplishment. Oh-" Ryan turned his head until they were looking at each other. "And you're not my prag."

"Shit, how did I miss that?" Miguel answered sarcastically.

"You're wasting too much time being a smartass? And while you were busy being miserable, I got something." Ryan went to his bed, and reached inside his pillowcase. "It's not champagne," he said throwing a small bottle of liquor toward Miguel.

Miguel picked it up, and chuckled. "Leave to you to find Irish whiskey."

"Hey, what else did you expect from me?" Ryan sat back on Miguel's bed. "C'mon, we can celebrate your return to the class of productive inmates."

Miguel snorted, but twisted the cap. "To your never ending resources." He took a swig from the bottle, flinching as the whiskey burned its way down. "It's been a while," he said before passing it to Ryan. 

"Strange, considering who gets most of this stuff in. I remember El Norte doing business around here," Ryan remarked, before swallowing a healthy dose. 

"Ah, so there is something else. I'm not in the mood for guessin' games, O'Reily. Tell me what the fuck you want, and then I'm gonna get shit faced."

"I don't want nothin', unless... Well, unless you're tired of sitting around, doing shit, being called a prag... I thought you might even want El Norte back." Ryan's head lolled back, and he rested against the wall as he pretended to think. "That might stop the rumors, in case you cared, of course."

Miguel mentally cursed. The Mick was going to get him involved in something whether he liked it or not, but truth be told he wanted it back, wanted something back. "And of course, you have a plan."

"Don't I always, baby?" Ryan grinned, and waved the bottle to Miguel. "This is where we start. Pancamo doesn't care if I bring alcohol in, but I don't have the resources, so I'm thinking we make an agreement. El Norte does the business, I get a nice twenty-five percent, and I make sure you guys have no problems with the Italians or the Aryans."

"Yeah? We've been bringin' this shit in for years. Why do we need you?" Miguel was well aware why, but it never hurt to push, at least until the shanks came out.

Ryan rolled his eyes. "I thought you didn't want to play no games. You try doin' business with the Italians or the Aryans, and then you tell me how things go down, okay, amigo?"

"You're assuming El Norte wants me in charge."

"You're the one who's got me to cover your back." 

"Right, and when they ask why I'll tell them, you're doin' it out of the goodness of your Irish heart." Miguel shook his head. "They're gonna think you're fucking me, and then no one is gonna want me in charge of El Norte."

"We can't say we aren't fucking 'cause no one believes the truth in this shit hole." Ryan tapped his fingers on his leg. "We gotta find a way to spin it around...mmm... tell them I want your help in the infirmary... hey, I'm still in love with Gloria, and you've convinced me that you can help me, and that's why I'm bein' so friendly and shit. How's that sound?"

"Like you're one slick manipulator... I can make 'em buy it, though, as long as you don't mind. Don't want to wake up with a shank in my chest, hermano."

Ryan snorted. "Told you, no killing inside my pod, and it's cool. As long as I get my money. So... it's a deal?"

"There's something I want... John Clark."

"Who the fuck is that?"

Miguel stared at the wall, and then slowly turned to Ryan. "The son of a bitch who raped Alonzo."

"No! You ain't gonna kill the scumbag."

"I don't want him dead; I want him to suffer."

Ryan shook his head. "No can do, Alvarez. We need for things to quiet down, no rocking the Aryans or Querns." He glared at Miguel, but he could see the anger in Miguel's eyes. The Spick was going to do it with or without his okay. "Look," he started, "I'm gonna find a way so he gets what's coming to him, but it's gotta be in a way that the Aryans don't lose face, and it can't come back to you, understand?"

"I ain't waiting forever, O'Reily."

"And I can't do it overnight. The man ain't going nowhere, so chill, bro."

"Would you chill if Alonzo was someone you cared about?" Miguel asked, cocking his head.

"One, I don't care about no one in here, that's how I survive. Two, even if I did, I wouldn't be stupid about it. Revenge takes time. Here-" He passed the whiskey bottle. "Drink this and forget about this Clark guy for now." 

Miguel held the bottle in his hand, turning it around as he watched the amber liquid rock inside the glass. "For some fucking reason, you do care. About me." He looked up at Ryan. "I don't know why, but you're the only one who doesn't treat me like I'm a kid, or like I'm damaged or like I need some fucking babysitter." 

Miguel put a hand on Ryan's cheek; he leaned in slowly, giving Ryan plenty of time to move, but finally he couldn't take it anymore. His lips touched with Ryan's, a mere brush at first, then more insistent, until they were finding each other over and over again, until he felt a hand on his chest, pushing him back. Reluctantly, Miguel stopped, but refused to move away.

"I didn't do it for this." Ryan's hot breath was like a gentle caress as he spoke.

"I know."

"So what? You want to thank me, is that it?"

Miguel shook his head. "I want to kiss you." He reached up and rested his fingers on Ryan's lips. "I know, you're straight, but I ain't looking for nothing more than kissing. You can... you can imagine that Nathan's here."

He replaced his fingers with his lips, kissing Ryan again. So chaste. So pure. Not a hint of tongue. So different from the hard lives they had. Somehow, he found himself on his back, pressed against the mattress by Ryan's weight, and Ryan's hands were on his face, touching gently.

Miguel could feel the blood pumping through his veins. He felt alive; every part of him felt alive. He shifted, his hardening cock brushed against Ryan's hip, and the world froze. 

Ryan pulled back like he'd been burned. "It's enough," he said coldly as he stood up.

Miguel cursed himself for pushing, but by instinct he reached for Ryan's wrist. "This isn't part of the deal... if you still want a deal."

"Business is business, Alvarez."

"Okay, then we got a deal." Miguel banged his head against the pillow. Stupid, he had been so stupid, and now he had four hours until lights out, four hours to think about every second, every kiss, four hours to tell himself how stupid he had been.

* * *

**Part 16 - Prompt 055. Spirit: Halloween in Oz**

Ryan woke up with a start. He'd learned as a kid to trust his gut, and he knew before he even opened his eyes that something was wrong. He blinked, trying to get accustomed to the dark, and that's when he saw a shadow inside his pod. He reached for his shank before sitting up.

"You ain't gonna need that, O'Reily."

"Ortolani?" Ryan frowned, his mind already trying to figure out what was going on. "It can't be," he muttered. "You've been dead for six years."

Ortolani brought a hand to his chest. "You remember; I'm touched."

Ryan jumped off from his bed. He still didn't know what the fuck was going on, but two shanks were always better than one. He shook Miguel's shoulder, trying to wake him. "Alvarez, wake up... wake the fuck up." Worry became concern when Miguel didn't move. He pointed the shank toward Ortolani. "What the hell did you do to him?"

"If I didn't know you better, I'd say that you cared about the Spick, but we all know you care about no one but yourself."

"Mr. Schibetta?" Ryan stood, unable to move, hand painfully closed around his shank. He had died and this was his punishment. Either that or he'd lost his mind like Cyril.

"What? Cat got your tongue, O'Reilly? I never thought I'd live to see the day," Stanislofsky said as he appeared in a corner of the pod.

Ryan dropped to the floor, the shank lying forgotten to his side. Legs to his chest, hands raking his hair with nervous energy. "No, God, no. No, no, no, you're not here, none of you are." He looked up, murderous look in his eyes. "Go the fuck away. Go away, and leave me the fuck alone."

"We ain't going no where, O'Reilly." Keane leaned against the wall. He stared at Ryan as he ran his finger over the blade of a knife. "In fact, we brought company."

Other people slowly appeared in the pod. First it was Cudney, who looked accusingly at the Irish man, partially covered Gulino and Keenan. Next to them stood Andy Schillinger, who had a kicked puppy look on his face. Mondo Browne stood shoulder by shoulder with Khan. Torquemada came forward, with blood over his face.

Ryan rested his head on his knees, refusing to look at anyone. He began to rock himself. "This isn't real; this isn't real," he kept mumbling to himself, refusing to look at the people around him.

He jumped when he felt a light touch on his should. Ryan's head snapped up, and his eyes widened in shock. "Oh God, it can't be... please... Cyril... God, you can't be..."

"Shh... it's all right, Ryan." Cyril sounded like he did before the accident: mature and self-assured. "We're not here to hurt you, bro, but we needed to see you. I needed to see you."

Ryan scrambled to his knees, and his arms wrapped around his brother in a violent embrace, holding tight to make sure that it was real and that Cyril wouldn't leave again. "Oh Cyril, I can't believe this...you're here...I missed you so much."

"I know, Ryan. I missed you, too." Cyril pushed away gently, and smiled. "There is someone you need to meet." He turned toward a tall man that was standing right besides the O'Reily's brothers. "This is Preston Nathan. 

Ryan looked between Cyril and Nathan, before settling on his brother again. "Why are you doing this? Why are you torturing me like this?"

Cyril shook his head. "I'm not trying to hurt you, Ryan, but you need to put this-" he waved to the people around the room. "You have to put *us* to rest. You keep thinking of us, and it makes you weak. You need to focus on life in Oz, if you want to stay alive."

"For what? The only way I'm getting out of here is in a body bag, Cyril." Ryan rested his head against Cyril's shoulder. "I'm tired, tired of all of this shit, the scheming, the killing, the every day bullshit."

"I know, bro, but it's not your time, yet. You can find some happiness in here, maybe get closer to Dad in the process, and Ma... she loves you." Cyril kisses Ryan's forehead, just like his older brother used to do when Cyril was a child. "I have to go, Ryan, but I'll watch over you. I promise."

"Cyril...please," Ryan said in a whisper and he didn't know what he was asking. 

Cyril touched Ryan's face and smiled sadly. "I can't stay, but I'll have be with you. In here," he added touching Ryan's chest, right above his heart. "Bye, big bro." 

"NOOOOOO!!!" 

Ryan woke up, startled. He looked around, but nothing was out of the ordinary. Oz was dark, the console in the middle of Em City was the only source of light. He rested his head back, concentrating in slowing his breathing down.

He tried to go back to sleep, but he knew he was futile. He got down, trying to make little noise as not to wake Miguel up. He stood in front of the sink, watching his reflection in the mirror for a few moments, before splashing cold water in his face.

"Are you okay, O'Reily?"

Ryan jumped at the unexpected question. Shit, it was never good to show any weakness. Not even in front of a friend. "Yeah, I'm fine. Go back to sleep."

Right, like Alvarez ever did what he was told! Next time he looked at his reflection, Miguel was standing right behind him. "I told you I'm fine," Ryan repeated annoyed.

Miguel snorted. "Yeah, I can see that. You're jumpier than a cat on crack."

"And you would know how a cat on crack looks like... how?"

Miguel smiled. "Fine, you're okay; you're great. I gotcha, but if you wanna talk... Consider it repayment for all the times I've woken you up." He turned around, and went back to his bed.

Ryan rubbed his eyes, before turning around. He took a deep breath. What he was about to do was stupid, incredibly stupid, but he was too shook up to care at the moment. "I dreamed of Cyril. He sounded so real, so much like the old Cyril before the accident...And there were other people, people who died because of me... then they just... left. Fuck, I thought Halloween was yesterday," Ryan said, trying to lighten the moment.

"Fuck Halloween. That's like... some make up thing for the kids. You know what's tomorrow." Miguel looked at his watch; it was already 3am. "Well, today. November 2nd, the day of the dead. C'mon, O'Reily, you're Catholic, you're supposed to know this shit. Today is the day that we honor the dead, make peace with them, and pray for their souls."

Ryan snorted. "Suddenly, you're a choir boy, aren't you? 'Sides, aren't they supposed to have died in a state of grace before the prayers can help them. Ain't none of them going to Heaven, I can tell you that much."

Miguel swung his legs around and sat up. "So you do know some shit... other than fucking your fellow inmates."

"I don't fuck them. I fuck with them," Ryan pointed out, as he joined Miguel on the bed. "And that's how they end up dead."

Miguel shrugged. "If it ain't you doing the screwing, someone else will, you know that. You can't think about that. You gotta do what you gotta do to survive in this place."

Wasn't that what Cyril had told him as well? Ryan sighed. "Yeah, yeah, I know, it don't make it easier.... So I'm supposed to make peace with the fuckers I wanted dead?"

Miguel slid back, until his back was resting against the wall. He waited, knowing that Ryan would do the same, only because Ryan hated having someone at his back. It was too dangerous in this place. When Ryan settled next to him, Miguel finally spoke again. "You know what I think?"

"You can think, Alvarez?"

Miguel hit Ryan's stomach with the back of his hand, but there was no intention to hurt in the gesture. "I've been known to come up with a few ideas, like maybe ...you're not worried about those people that died... like maybe you're still upset about your brother," he finished softly. Cyril wasn't a subject you talked about with Ryan around. It was another one of those unspoken rules that existed in Oz. Only Ryan mentioned Cyril's name; that was the way things were.

"Of course, I'm upset. Those motherfuckers killed him, and he hadn't done shit."

"He shanked that guy to save you. Don't start sayin' it don't mean shit, 'cause your brother saved you life and that ain't shit."

"He shouldn't have been here," Ryan whispered.

"But you brought him here. That's what's fucking you up, isn't it?"

Ryan glared at Miguel. "Fuck you." He tried to get away, but Miguel grabbed his arm, holding him in place. Alvarez didn't move; he waited, and waited until Ryan rested back against the wall. Even then, Miguel refused to let go completely, his hand resting over Ryan's.

"My son died because of me. Five years, and it still kills me. Almost drove me crazy. I should have died, but I was a lucky son of bitch, or maybe living is my punishment. I don't know, and I don't give a fuck anymore, but he... my son... he's up there, and he sees me, and I know - I *know* that he knows how sorry I am. Your brother...Cyril is up there, too, and he knows, O'Reily."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, O'Reily. Now, move your ass, so we can get some sleep."

"Right." Ryan sighed. He doubted he could fall asleep just yet, but there was no point that both of them should be up. "Night, Alvarez."

Miguel grabbed him again. "Where you think you're going?"

Ryan stared at him. "Are you insane, or just stupid?"

Miguel grinned. "Neither." He pulled the sheets. "C'mon, you're sleeping here." He raised his hands before Ryan could bitch. "No fucking, fondling, groping, or anything else. Not even kissing."

"The hacks?"

"O'Reily, don't play dumb with me. I don't know who the fuck you pay off, but no one ever checks here." 

"That's because there is no fucking in my pod," Ryan spat back.

Miguel ignored him. He moved under the sheets, resting on his side, and holding the sheets up for Ryan. He didn't say anything else, knowing that the Irish needed to make the decision for himself.

"This don't mean shit," Ryan declared as he spooned against Miguel.

"I told you; it's repayment." Miguel wrapped his arm around Ryan, his touch gentle, ready to move away if Ryan tensed, but after a moment of complete stillness, Ryan relaxed.

"Your son and Cyril? They're both in heaven? I like that."

Miguel smiled against Ryan's hair. "Me too." He waited until he felt Ryan relax into sleep. Maybe this wasn't heaven, but maybe, together, they could stop it from becoming hell.

* * *

**Part 17 - The Cage**

**Prompt 043. Square: Locked Up**

Ryan was sitting around, playing poker with Beecher, Busmalis and Rebadow, but his eyes kept going to the biker sitting across the room. Until now, most of the talk had been about Alvarez, but now, that shithead was saying that Ryan was a faggot and that was simply not acceptable. He closed his cards and threw them on the table. "I'm out."

Beecher looked over his shoulder, and then back to Ryan. "You're playing like shit."

"I'd settle for beating the shit out of that motherfucker."

"And I'd settle for a Jacuzzi and some Swiss chocolate, neither of us is gonna get it though."

"That's what you think, Law-Boy."

Beecher put a hand on Ryan's arm. "He's not worth it."

"Maybe to you, but it's worth it to me," Ryan spat out, glaring at the biker.

The man got up, surrounded by other bikers. He walked toward Ryan. "Hey, O'Reily, wanna suck my cock?" he asked grabbing his crotch.

Ryan pushed his chair out and swung it as he stood up, hitting the biker right on his head. The man fell on the ground, right in front of Ryan. Blood was creeping down his face. "Why don't you suck my cock while you're down there?" he screamed as two hacks jumped him.

"Put him in the cage," came from upstairs, where McManus was looking daggers at him.

Ryan raised his arms. "No need to push, I'm going." He spit on the biker, before he walked to the cage. He stood, hands on the metal fence, and glared back at McManus. Stupid yes, but he had a reputation to uphold.

* * *

**Prompt 078. Where?: Imaginary Travels**

Miguel arrived to Em City, still wearing his scrubs, as Clark was handing out the mail. Ryan was sitting on the floor, his back resting against the metal barrier.

"Hey, O'Reilly, want me to shred them and pass them through the holes," Clark taunted him.

Miguel walked to the Aryan and grabbed the magazines. "I'll take those. Now, move along, bro."

"Got your balls back, Alvarez?" Clark watched as the hacks got closer. He leaned in closer. "Next time you won't be so lucky, Spick."

"Next time, you'll be fucking dead, hermano." Miguel grabbed a chair and pulled it closer to the cage before sitting down. "Can I kill him now?"

Ryan turned his head and grinned. "No, but soon enough." 

"Good, and what you did was fucking stupid."

"Yeah, how'd you know?"

"I was there when Nathan stitched him up, seven stitches right above his eye." Miguel opened a magazine, and began scanning it. "Remind me never to call you a maricon."

"You wouldn't be so stupid," Ryan remarked. 

"The guy is a biker; he has no brains." Miguel flipped a few more pages. "Greece sounds nice. There are so many islands, and beaches, and tourists. We don't even have to work. We can find rich babes, live off of them."

Ryan snorted. "When did it become 'we'?"

"You'd be bored without me, baby."

* * *

**Prompt 007. Days: Reading Time**

McManus opened the blinds of his office and looked down. "What the fuck is Alvarez doing?"

Murphy came behind him and looked at Miguel. "He's been reading those magazines. Every moment he has free."

"He's been reading them to O'Reily, you mean. He's been reading them for six fucking days," Tim commented without hiding his annoyance.

"Hey, I can't stop the guy from reading," Murphy pointed out. "They don't touch, they don't make eye contact, or not long enough for us to catch them. They don't speak directly. There is nothing I can do, Tim."

"Of course, it had to be O'Reily. Bastard's found a way around the punishment," McManus commented, shaking his head.

Murphy laughed. "I think it's Alvarez that found the way." He looked back down. "C'mon, Tim, leave them alone. They aren't doing anything."

"O'Reily cut a guy's face."

"I didn't say they are saints, I'm just saying that at the moment they aren't doing anything wrong."

"Sooner or later, he's gonna do something; we just need to catch him." McManus sighed. "Fine, wait until tomorrow night, and release him.

* * *

**Part 18 - Prompt 038. Touch: Irrational Behavior**

"Count!"

Ryan never loved that word more than he did tonight. He jumped from the cage as Mineo opened the door, and climbed up the stair. He stood shoulder to shoulder with Miguel. The back of their hands brushed as they moved. It was light, and temporary, but it felt so fucking good.

The cage was better than the hole, but a week without human contact drove Ryan crazy. He craved touch, regardless of the intent behind it. He was a man who needed to feel skin under his fingers, bodies pressed against his. The only thing that had kept him sane during the past week was Alvarez's voice gliding over him like a gentle gloved hand. 

Usually, he would have time to get accustomed to every day life, with Cyril being there to give him something to focus on, but this time, when he entered his pod, he had Miguel pressing against his back.

Miguel rested a hand on his shoulder, and squeezed. "Are you okay?" 

Ryan closed his eyes. No, he wasn't okay, no one ever was after leaving the cage, or worse, the hole. He span around, and grabbed the back of Miguel's neck. A touch. A moment. A look. Then, he was kissing Miguel, the kiss was rough and insistent, and he ignored the five o'clock shadow, ignored the sculpted bicep clenching against his fingers.

He groaned when he felt Miguel pull away, not completely, but enough for him to feel the loss. "What?"

"We can't do this."

"Fucking hacks can suck my dick," Ryan growled.

Miguel chuckled softly. "I doubt it, bro, but that's not it. I know you, O'Reily, and I know what it means being locked up for a week. You just got out, and you can convince yourself that I'm ... I don't know Nathan, but in an hour you'll regret this. In a day, you'll convince yourself that it was my fault. In a few weeks, you'll manage to get me killed. Sooo, why don't we stop, yeah?"

Ryan leaned in, capturing Miguel's lips once more, and then stepped back. "How's business?" he asked as he sat on Miguel's bed.

"Shipment is ready to come in. I was waiting for you to make arrangements with the Aryans, but you've been occupied." Miguel sat next to Ryan. "We're ready whenever you give the okay."

"This mean everything cool with your people?"

Miguel shrugged. "Looks like it, man, but you know how these things are. Right now, they know they don't got no choice, and no one can say shit since they were all flying high for months. Tomorrow, it could all be different."

"I don't understand you Spicks. You change your leaders faster than people change their fucking underwear."

"Not everyone has your Irish luck, O'Reily. Everyone else has a way of... endin' up dead. Not that you'd know anything about their deaths, right, baby?"

"Me? I'm shocked that you'd even think that. I'm a role model; I exercise regularly, eat properly, don't do no drugs, and I was even an altar boy. See?" Ryan's smile faltered after a moment. He rubbed the back of his neck before leaning back, propped against the heels of his hands. "What do we do now?"

Miguel reached over Ryan, and dipped his hand under the pillow. He brought out a magazine with a grin. "I think we're still looking." He rolled onto his stomach and spread the magazine on the pillow. "C'mon I'll show you a few places I saw."

As Ryan lay down, their bodies touched again. He knew Miguel understood how much a simple touch meant. A simple thank you would have done, but Ryan never could accept that he needed others. So he thanked Miguel the only way he could. He kissed him again, light and quick, before turning his head to the magazine. "I wasn't thinking of Gloria," he said, without looking, but even with his eyes on the magazine, he could see the smile on Miguel's face.

* * *

**Part 19 - Prompt 022. Enemies: Love Stories**

McManus and Murphy were at the officer station. Murphy sat on a chair looking around, but mostly looking at his friend. "They aren't doing anything wrong," he said with a grin.

"Look at them." McManus was currently staring at Alvarez and O'Reily. Alvarez had his chair behind O'Reily's, and he was leaning forward, arm swinging over O'Reily's shoulder, pointing at something in O'Reily's magazine. "You can't tell me-"

Murphy shook his head. "Nothing's happening." He stood up, and patted McManus's back. "C'mon, we'll be late for the staff meeting."

"Oh joy, another hour with Querns," McManus mumbled, but he started to walk toward the conference room.

Murphy smiled and nodded as he listened to his friend's mumblings, mostly directed O'Reily. "I'm telling you, they aren't fighting or fucking," he finished as he opened the door.

"Who isn't?" asked Sister Pete.

Murphy looked at the nun, and then at Suzanne, and then at McManus. "O'Reily," he said ducking his head, and found a seat.

"Oh, he and Miguel," Suzanne started, shaking her head. "I thought... but no, it's the reason Ryan hit that guy."

"He almost hit him in the eye," McManus pointed out.

"Yes, I know, I'm not justifying what he did; I'm saying that he reacted that way because they were saying that he and Miguel were a couple, and they aren't." She sat a coffee mug on the table before sitting down. "I even told him that I wouldn't mind if they were together-"

"There is no fucking in Em City," McManus interjected.

"Yes, well, I wouldn't mind in an intellectual way," she said, rolling her eyes, "but no, he was adamant."

"I still think there is something wrong," Tim continued.

"What is wrong?" Querns asked as he walked in.

"That two guys aren't fighting or fucking," Sister Pete answered, hiding her smile beyond her own mug. 

"McManus, I gotta hand it to you, we haven't had any problems in Em City since Torquemada's death," Querns noted. 

"Yes, well, things aren't as wonderful as they look. We still have to worry about the drugs." McManus sighed as he sat down. "We can't seem to find a way to stop them."

Querns snorted. "This is jail, and those people are criminals, McManus. You're never gonna stop the drugs. We can only minimize them, and keep things under control."

"That's not why we're here," McManus stressed.

"Yes, and you still believe in Santa, McManus." Querns opened his folder. "So, people, what do we need to discuss?"

"There is the Christmas show," Suzanne started. "I know we're only at the beginning of November, but I don't have much time to work with the inmates."

Murphy watched the shocked faces around the table, and he almost laughed. He cleared his throat. "Suzanne... someone died the last time."

"I know, but... I don't know, we'll just have to be more careful, and no knives." She looked at the Warden and smiled. "I'm sure we can make it safe."

"Yeah, and what are we doing this time? Braveheart, we give them swords and shields instead," Querns said sarcastically.

Father Ray ignored the chuckles around the table. "We all know that it was Keller that switched that knife, but the show itself helped the inmates work together, learn to cooperate. I think it's a great idea."

"And we wouldn't do Braveheart," Suzanne added. "I was thinking of a modified version of West Side story. It's something they would relate to, it's modern and it deals with fights between gangs."

Sister Pete covered Suzanne's hand with hers. "Not to sound negative, but you're missing a few leading ladies. After Torquemada, I doubt Fiona or any one else would be willing..."

"I know, that's why I said modified. I was thinking of having the two leaders fall in love for each other-"

McManus threw a pen on the table. "Yeah, this is great, and who should we get to do this?"

Murphy chuckled. "C'mon, Tim, it could be fun. Can't you just picture Pancamo and Alvarez proclaiming their love for each other?"

"Miguel isn't Puerto Rican," Gloria said, "he's Cuban."

"No," McManus said aggravated. "He's American, just like Pancamo. We shouldn't encourage these divisions."

"Suzanne has a valid point. Gang rivalry is something that the inmates understand. They can explore the consequences of what happens when they try to break down this rivalry."

"We know what happens: death or a business arrangement," Tim said dryly. 

"You're so cheery today," Sister Pete remarked with a smile. 

"Look," Querns started. "I doubt you'll find anyone willing to get involved with that. It's gonna hit too close to home, but if you get the inmates to cooperate, you can do it. Now, on to real business, Ad Seg is getting crowded again...."

McManus spaced off, listening only when Em City was being mention. When the hour passed, he was the first to get up, but Gloria cut him off. "What's wrong, Tim? You're usually the first to support Suzanne."

He sighed. "I don't know, but I have a feeling this will turn into another nightmare."

"A little optimism wouldn't hurt; you're always the one saying that we need to give them opportunities," she said softly.

"I do, but this... this West Side Story thing... seems to me like her way to get O'Reily and Alvarez together. Hell, even Sean seems to think it's a good idea, and rumors are spreading everywhere, and you know what's worse... It doesn't matter whether they are fucking or not, people believe it, and yet, they still have enough respect from the inmates that they are dealing drugs and alcohol. The two of them working together is just too dangerous."

"Maybe you're not being objective. You never are when Ryan is involved. Maybe Querns is right, we can't stop all drugs, and whatever they are doing is keeping people alive. Maybe you should focus on that," Gloria said.

McManus shook his head. "This isn't some love story, Gloria. This is a deal made in hell. I'll talk to you later," he said curtly before leaving the conference room.

* * *

**Part 20 - Prompt 046. Star: Searching for the Stars**

Ryan was sitting outside his pod, feet on the rail, and a magazine resting on his legs. His head snapped up when someone hit his arm. "What?"

Miguel nodded toward downstairs, before standing next to Ryan, leaning forward against the rail. "Your mother is here. Anything I should know?"

Ryan pulled back the chair, and leaned forward. He followed Suzanne with his eyes, but didn't get up. Suzanne looked up and smiled at him before continuing her conversation with McManus. "Not a fucking clue. McManus must be up to his usual shit again."

The television was turned off, earning loud and colorful complaints from the inmates. No one interrupted Miss Sally without an insult, not even McManus.

"Okay, ladies, listen up." Murphy's voice projected over Em City and after a few moments he had the silence he wanted. "Ms. Fitzgerald has something to tell you. So open your ears, keep your mouths shut and if you really have to entertain us with your stupidity, do it politely."

"Hi, guys." Suzanne looked over the inmates with a smile. "The Warden has given us the okay for the Christmas show." She grinned at the catcalls and boos. "Yes, I know, we've had some... problems in the past, but to make things easier, we'd like to keep this limited to the inmates in Em City, and we'll involve other cellblocks as the need arises. That's why I'm asking everyone to help. We need everything from a stage director to the two main characters."

A biker, with a shaved head and covered in tattoos, stood up. He patted his beer belly and grinned. "I can be your star."

"That's nice, but you wouldn't be *my* star. You'd be the love interest of the leader of a rival gang," Suzanne answered. "It'll be a variation of West Side Story. We have two rival gangs, and the two leaders fall for each other."

Miguel turned to Ryan and smiled amused. "She's high, you know that? Ain't no one going to do that."

Ryan shrugged. "She'll get those two people." He looked at Miguel and grinned. "I can be very persuasive."

"Hey, Beecher is always ready to suck dick," an Aryan shouted.

Ryan stood up, just as Miguel did. "Yeah, Beecher, you can do the whole star crossed lover thing."

Beecher gave him the finger and a huge grin. "Suck my dick, O'Reily."

"Missing Keller, Law-Boy?" Ryan answered back, knowing he would have to thread carefully when it came to Keller, but Beecher seemed more willing to talk about him lately.

"Nah," Miguel said loudly as he rubbed his stomach. "He's trading one manipulating bastard for another."

"You can suck my dick, too, Alvarez," Beecher yelled back.

"No can do, baby." He rested his elbow on Ryan's shoulder, and winked at Beecher. "Sorry, I don't suck no one's dick." 

"Unless it's O'Reily's," another biker yelled over the loud voices that were now heard through Em City.

Miguel glared at the man, but stood his ground, refusing to move away from Ryan. "I'd watch what I say, bro. Chairs do some real damage, just ask your pal."

McManus sighed. He had known that Alvarez and O'Reily on a friendly basis would have meant trouble. This was only the beginning.

Murphy took a look a Tim and shrugged. There was nothing they could do when words were the only thing exchanged. He turned his eyes to the crowds. "Hey, what did I say about shutting up and being polite? Ms. Fitzgerald will be in the cafeteria until dinner. You can talk to her about your possible involvement. As she said, you don't have to be actors." He looked at Suzanne and Tim. "Anything else?" They both shook their head. "Okay, go back to doing whatever you were doing."

Ryan watched McManus escort his mother out, before turning to Alvarez. "We gotta find someone to do this thing, or she'll harass me. She's been trying to get me involved since she got here."

Miguel rested his face against his arm, laughing. "You're afraid of your mama, O'Reily?"

"Hey, wait until she tries to get you involved and then you tell me."

Miguel shook his head. "Oh no, did it before, and Schillinger died. Not that it was a bad thing... All right, let's find her some actors."

* * *

**Part 21 - Lock Down**

**Prompt 004. Insides: Day 1**

"Lock down!"

The word rang throughout Oz as the siren ran incessantly. Ryan looked at Pancamo, but the Italian shook his head, denying any knowledge. Ryan turned to the other inmates, but everyone seemed confused. It seemed like Em City wasn't involved in whatever was going down.

"Heard anything that could explain this?" Ryan asked Miguel as they entered their pod.

"No, but whoever caused this better be dead, 'cause there are lots of deliveries in the next few days," Miguel replied.

"Yeah, there'll be lots of pissed people when there are no tits or booze." Ryan went to the glass, a bent arm pressed against it. He rested his forehead on the crook of his elbow. "Of course, Ma will be ever more pissed. No show if we're all locked up."

Miguel snorted. "She's your mama, O'Reily; she'd probably find a way to get the hacks to do her dirty deeds. I'd be scared to go against her." He leaned against Ryan's back, head on his shoulders. "You'd think they'd be tired of watching us."

"Let those fuckers watch. They're not gettin' a show from me," Ryan said, glaring back at whoever looked his way.

"Yeah, I know." Miguel moved away. "Unless you just got out of the cage," he mumbled under his breath, before getting into his cot, refusing to speak for the rest of the day.

**Prompt 032. Sunset: Day 2**

Miguel was going insane. Silence, nothing but silence since the day before. He knew O'Reily was a bastard, he just didn't know what a stubborn bastard Ryan could be. 

He stood up and rested his arms on Ryan's bed. "What are you looking at?"

"What? You're talking to me again?" Ryan asked lazily.

"Fuck you, O'Reily."

Ryan grabbed Miguel's wrist. "Come up here, and I'll show you."

Miguel smirked. "That sounds like such a bad pick up line, O'Reily."

"Get your mind out of the gutter, Alvarez." Ryan shifted closer to the wall to give Miguel room. He opened the magazine, showing a picture of a beach. The sun was low on the horizon, obscured by some palm tree. "I was picturing what it'd be like, sun warming my skin. God, I miss the sun, and the moon, fuck I even miss the rain."

Miguel sighed. "Yeah, I miss the warmth too." It wasn't really the sun he wanted now, but lying this way, spending the rest of the day chatting and bullshitting brought some of the warmth back.

**Prompt 065. Passing: Day 3**

They had abandoned clothes in favors of boxers and shirt the night before. No point in getting dressed when you were locked up in a cell all day long.

Ryan paced restlessly around the pod. He had a business to run, drugs to get in. This was interfering in a big way. He should be more pissed, but he kept thinking about Miguel's statement two days earlier. Worse he kept thinking about his return from the cage. He'd wanted to kiss Alvarez, needed it badly. God, he hated needing something, he hated it even more that he needed something from another guy.

He sat on Miguel's bed, without speaking.

"Yeah?" Miguel asked with a raised eyebrow.

"I shouldn't have kissed you," Ryan blurted out.

Miguel raised a shoulder, dismissal clear in his gesture. "Don't sweat it, O'Reily. Lot's of things we shouldn't be doing; we do them anyway." 

"What if I wanna do it again?"

Miguel sat up. "Listen, O'Reily, we can do business, we can fuck. We can do business and fuck. What we can't do is you fuckin' with me, comprende?"

"I..." Ryan got up, and began pacing again. "I'll think about it."

Miguel rolled his eyes. "Yeah, you do that, bro, and when you get tired of worrying about what those fuckers say, you let me know."

**Prompt 033. Too Much: Day 4**

It was still dark in Em City, but Ryan couldn't sleep. For once, it wasn't nightmares keeping him awake, but the simple fact that you could only lie on a bed for so long before you became restless.

He noticed the noises coming from outside. He went to the glass, and for the first time in four days, he saw movements at the hacks station. This goddamn nightmare might be finally over. 

He went to Miguel, and slapped a leg with the back of his hand. "We're getting out."

"What if I was sleeping, O'Reily?" Miguel asked, his voice clear.

"Bullshit, you've been awake for hours. C'mon, get up, there's somethin' I need to do before they open up."

Miguel frowned, but he stood up. Ryan had always something going on, and he'd learned that it was easier to go along. Up to a point. Miguel followed the other man into the hollow space behind the bed. "What?"

Ryan grabbed Miguel's face, and kissed him, slowly, easing into the kiss as lips parted with gentle encouragement. He slid his tongue inside Miguel's mouth, tasting him for the first time, waiting for the moment of disgust that never came.

Miguel wrapped one arm around him, pulling him close. His free hand rested on Ryan's cheek, soft and never demanding. 

Ryan felt his body react, but it was too much, too soon. He pulled back, looking into glazed eyes. "I haven't decided about the fucking yet," he said breathless.

Miguel smiled. "It's all right. I ain't goin' nowhere, baby." He rested his forehead against Ryan's. He sighed when he heard the familiar noise of the door opening up as the light came on. "Time to get out there, and found out what happened."

Ryan grinned. Back to business, back on solid ground.

* * *

**Part 22 - Prompt 026. Teammates: Butting Heads**

Only a few hours later, and Ryan was trying to get everything back on schedule. Currently, he sat in front of Pancamo, shuffling cards that neither man was looking at. 

Miguel arrived and pulled a chair from a nearby table, and sat down.

Pancamo put a hand on Miguel's chair and pulled it away. "I don't talk to prags. Move along."

"I don't give a shit about what you do," Miguel spat out.

"Hey!" Ryan leaned forward. "We're here to do business, not play a fucking game. Alvarez isn't a prag, and you know it." He turned toward Miguel. "And you, no need to disrespect anyone? We're all friends, right?" He ignored the silence, and went on. "So what did you learn?"

Miguel lay back against the chair, legs straight in front of him, making a show of getting comfortable. "There was a stabbing in Unit B."

"Drugs?" Pancamo asked.

"Nah, private matter. One homeboy stealing from another nigger, nothing that concerns us." Miguel shrugged. "He ain't even dead, so Querns isn't too worried."

"Good. So we're on track for tomorrow," Ryan said. "We'll have to slow down sales, 'cause they'll be watching us after the lock down."

"O'Reily, I don't need you to tell me how to run my business," Pancamo spat out.

"Wasn't trying to, just... thinking aloud, that's all. If we're done..." Ryan raised his eyebrows in question.

"I'm out of here." Miguel leaned closer to Pancamo as he stood up. "Don't go calling me prag. Everyone knows how crazy I am, never know what I might do, baby." He winked before walking away.

"You'd better keep him in check, O'Reily," Pancamo warned.

"C'mon, you know about respect; you people invented it. Don't disrespect him and we got no problems. As I said, we're all trying to run a business here." Ryan stood up as well. "See you later."

* * *

**Part 23 - Prompt 034. Not Enough: Just Kissing**

Ryan followed Alvarez out of Em City, heading for the kitchen. He waited until there were no hacks around to open a supply closet, and push Miguel inside. Ryan locked the door and leaned against it. "That was fucking stupid. You don't disrespect the Italians, at least not to their faces."

Miguel's hand rested flat on the door, inches away from Ryan's face, and his face was almost touching Ryan's, threatening or wanting. The Irishman could take it any way he wanted. "I don't tell you how to do business, and you don't tell me how to run mine, comprende?"

"And then you wonder why the people in charge of El Norte die so quickly," Ryan drawled out, "Morales was the only one who knew how to play this fucking game. You, amigo, need to learn if you want to stay alive."

"I'm not gonna let that Guinea call me a prag, O'Reily."

"Fine, and you made your point. There was no fucking need to threaten Pancamo."

Miguel shrugged. "What's done is done. 'Sides, what do you care?"

"I have a vested interest, remember?"

"Twenty five percent, yeah, I remember."

"I got more invested than that." Ryan's fingers curled around Miguel's neck, pulling him closer. His parted lips were readily met by Miguel's eager mouth.

Miguel pressed his entire body against Ryan's body, his crotch finding maddening friction against Ryan's hips. His lips traveled over Ryan's jaw, nipping their way to Ryan's neck. Miguel fought with the elastic of Ryan's kitchen uniform, his hand moving down until his fingers closed around Ryan's erect member.

"Alvarez..."

"Shh... I know, no fucking," Miguel whispered, his hand still moving over hot flesh. "Just kissing, baby. Kissing and touching." His other hand rested on Ryan's cheek and he drew back enough that he could look at Ryan's face. "Close your eyes... that's it... stop thinking, baby... feels damn good, don't it?"

His voice cracked, and he couldn't speak anymore, but he didn't have to, because Ryan pulled him into another scorching kiss that left both of them breathless. His hips moved restlessly, digging into Ryan's body. 

God, how he wanted to feel naked skin against his body, but it was too soon; he didn't want to scare Ryan away. Hell no, he wanted Ryan to enjoy every moment, every touch, to enjoy so much that he'd want more. 

Then... sweet Lord, he let out a moan as hot fingers moved over his body, and inside his pants. He held his breath, needing this more than he wanted to admit, gasping as those fingers hesitantly brushed against his cock before closing around it.

"Alvarez...Miguel..." Need, doubt, lust, all in his name.

Miguel kissed Ryan again, drowning any doubt; he kissed his cheeks, his lips, anything he could reach, gentle and wanton at the same time. "So good, baby... don't stop ... dios mios, don't stop."

Ryan's lips sealed over his, muffling the sob that signaled Ryan's release. Miguel thrust into the warm fist. Once, twice, and he followed Ryan over the edge. 

They stayed still, heavy breathing filling the small closet. Finally, Miguel brought his hand to his lips, licking it. "You taste good, baby."

"That's disgus-"

"Shut up, O'Reily, or I'll have to punch you." 

"Punching requires too much energy," Ryan said with a grin.

Miguel pulled his head back. "If your brain is working, instead of complain', find a way to get cleaned up. We can't have your mother seeing us like this."

Ryan burst out laughing. "I still can't believe you got suckered into doing that show."

"Directing, baby. I get to tell people what to do. Works so good for you."

"But sometimes, you need to shut up, and let others think they're the ones makin' the decision."

Miguel chuckled. "That's too complicated for my brain to process at the moment."

Ryan grabbed Miguel's face. "It means shut the fuck up and don't get killed."

"Don't plan to, O'Reily." Miguel gave Ryan's a quick kiss. "We're cool, right?"

"Yeah, now let's get out of here before someone looks for us." Ryan turned and cracked the door open. "There's a kitchen supply store, right outside the kitchen. We'll grab two pairs of clean pants. Okay, all clear."

"Okay, let's go."

Ryan slipped outside as if nothing had happened, walking side by side with Miguel. "Oh, and Alvarez, you should learn what 'kissing' means in English." 

Miguel smiled wickedly. "I wasn't hearin' you complain, baby."

* * *

**Part 24 - Prompt 011. Red: Rage**

Ryan cleaned the cafeteria tables, while he watched the rehearsal on stage, but in mind was somewhere else. Five days, five long and confusing days since they shared a hand job in a supply closet. Miguel hadn't mentioned it, but Ryan hadn't expected differently. Alvarez could be really good at avoiding what stood right in front of him.

Ryan tried to tell himself that a hand job wasn't much different than a kiss, but even he couldn't convince himself of that. Your hand on a guy's dick was not a kiss.

"You keep rubbing that spot, they'll need to replace the table."

Ryan jumped, but then smiled when he saw his mother. "Hey, Ma, how's it going?" he asked pointing toward the stage.

"Better than I expected. I had two volunteers for the leads: one nice Irish boy, and a Hispanic one. You wouldn't have anything to do with this, would you?"

Ryan grinned. "Oh darn, and here I was about to volunteer myself."

Suzanne laughed. "Liar, but I forgive you." She kissed his cheek, but as she looked at him, her smile faded. "Are you okay, Ryan? You've been quiet."

He pushed away the question with a shrug. "Just things, Ma, nothing to worry about. You know how it is in this place."

"So this isn't about you and Miguel, right?"

Ryan frowned. "Why would you think that?"

"I..." Suzanne sighed. "I saw your father, and he wasn't too happy."

Anger flamed inside Ryan. "You tell that bastard that the only reason he's being taken care of, it's because of me... Actually tell him that if he has the balls, he should speak to me, or keep his fucking mouth shut."

"Ryan... I thought you were getting along."

"Hey, I'm trying, but if he starts again, I'll make damn sure that I finish it. I'm not the little boy he can beat the shit out anymore." Ryan grabbed his rag. "I gotta go, Ma."

* * *

Ryan walked down the aisle between the long rows of tables during dinnertime. He stopped right behind his father who was eating without a care in the world, surrounded by the Irish from Unit B. "Give us a moment."

There were a few exchanged looks between the inmates and Ryan, and everyone got up, taking his tray with him. Ryan straddled the bench, only a few inches away from his father. "You wanted to talk to me, dad?"

"I'm eating," Seamus answered as he threw a piece of stale bread on the tray.

"If you got something to say to me, say it, but don't bother Ma," Ryan hissed.

"Giving orders, boy?" Seamus ran his tongue over his teeth as he glared at Ryan. "You're acting like a tough guy, but I've been hearin' things. All touchy and friendly with that faggot. I thought I cured you of that when I caught you with... what was his name... Bobby, right?"

"I'm warning you. Stay away from me and from Alvarez. You fuck with my business-"

"Don't sound like business to me."

Ryan leaned closer. "You fuck with my business, and it'll be the last fucking time you interfere." He stood up, and patted his father's back. "Don't be fucking stupid, dad."

* * *

**Part 25 - Prompt 074. Dark: Stains on the Soul**

Miguel finished brushing his teeth, and took off his pants, getting ready for lights out. He got into his bed, and rolled to his side, looking at Ryan, who was currently sitting on the floor, back against the wall, legs bent and feet planted on the floor. "I saw you talking to you father."

"That obvious, ah?"

"What? That you've been in a fucking mood since then? Nah... I mean you only bit a few heads off, but you didn't kill no one." Miguel waited for a reaction, but Ryan didn't even crack a smile. "Wanna tell me about it?"

"Tell your people to keep an eye on my dad. Any wrong moves, they can take him out."

"Shit, O'Reily..." Miguel swung his legs around and off the bed. He rested his elbows on his knees as he leaned toward Ryan. "Are you sure?"

"I've already told my guys and Pancamo." Ryan sighed. "He plays nice, then I'm being cautious. He tries to fuck with me..." He lolled his head back and stared into Miguel's eyes. "Well, he's not ruinin' things for me. Not again."

"C'mon, bro, you can run your business without... you know ... having him airholed. People know you're charge, there's nothing he can do about that." Miguel slid on the floor and sat next to Ryan. "He's your father; do you want his death on your conscience?"

"Yeah," he said slowly. "I got no choice." He straightened his legs and crossed them at the ankle. "When I was fourteen, he... he came home, drunk as usual. Me and Bobby, we were best friends, y'know? We were fooling around, joking, and then we were kissing. Dad walked in on us. He beat the shit out of me; I couldn't move for days. He sent Bobby home and told his dad. Bobby ended up with a broken arm. I stopped looking at guys... not that it was a big deal, I love women, I love fucking them, but me and Bobby, we never spoke to each other again."

Ryan turned to Miguel, resting a hand on Miguel's knee. "He knows about us, or he thinks he does. I can't let him hurt either one of us, not again."

"Okay, we'll take him out if we need to." Miguel's fingers traveled lightly over Ryan's arm. "This makes sense... I mean everyone in here says they're straight. Hell, Keller used to say he wasn't gay right after sticking his tongue down Beecher's throat, but you... you always fought like you had something to prove."

"I probably would have got it out of my system, y'know?"

Miguel chuckled. "Sure you would have, baby." He captured Ryan's lips for a moment, before pulling back. "So who's he gonna go to?"

"I can tell you he's not gonna go to the niggers, so it's the bikers or the Aryans."

"God, let it be the Aryans," Miguel said with grin. "I don't mean that he should try, but if he does..."

"If he does, you get your revenge. Seems only fair, and now..." The lights went off as the clock struck 10 pm. The dark always made things easier to hide, but it also made easier to bring them out in the open. "I'm staying in your bed tonight." A comment, but also a question, one Ryan never asked in the light of day, a question that Miguel didn't need to answer.

Miguel stood up, and pulled Ryan with him. "I'm not complaining, baby."

* * *

**Part 26 - Giving Thanks**

**Prompt 070. Storm: 3:45 pm**

The gym was busy today. Miguel reasoned that people didn't want to think about the holidays and the people they would not be seeing. However, when the hacks began to make themselves scarce, he took his boxing gloves off, and moved to Guerra's side. "Fuckers must really think I'm stupid, trying the same trick twice."

Chico grinned, and looked at the other members of El Norte that were starting to congregate. "We're ready, man."

"Let's see if we can avoid troubles, but if we can't... you know who the marks are," Miguel whispered. He waited for Chico's nod, before he took a step forward. "You know what I'm thinkin'," he said loudly. "These white supremacist fucks want to be in West Side Story, and they're rehearsing here."

"Alvarez, you're dead," Clark said.

Miguel smiled. "You tried once, motherfucker, and I'm still here." He looked at Seamus. "You sure you wanna do this, O'Reily?"

"Don't talk to me, Spick," Seamus spat out.

"Hey, I was trying to be nice, seeing how I do business with your son, but have it your way." Miguel reached for the shank. Oh yes, there would be some dancing today, but he wouldn't start it. No, the bastards would have to make the first move, but he intended to finish it.

* * *

**Prompt 093. Thanksgiving: 6:37 pm**

This was becoming increasingly frustrating. Worrisome and frustrating. Three fucking hours into lock down and Ryan had no clue what the fuck happened. Worse, three hours and no Miguel in his pod. 

He kept pacing, hoping to get something from the hacks hanging around at the station, but they weren't doing anything, just chatting like nothing had happened. Bastards. 

The only comforting thing was that Guerra and four other Spicks whose name he couldn't even remember weren't there. As long as they were all right... fuck that, they could be dead for all he cared as long as Miguel was okay. He could deal if they were in the hole, but he needed to know. Right, fucking now.

He went to the glass when he saw Murphy come his way, but then he saw the look on the hack's face. Oh God, no, it couldn't be. Murphy signaled Armstrong, and the door of his pod opened up. "Come with me, O'Reily."

"What's going on?" Ryan asked, already moving.

"Just come with me, okay?"

Oh Jesus, fuck, Murphy was being nice, too nice, voice soft and gentle. It couldn't possibly... Ryan walked, trying to steady himself as they left Em City. The infirmary. This was the way to the infirmary. Ryan let himself hope, but no, that didn't make sense. If Miguel was injured, they wouldn't come to get him.

Murphy led him directly into the private room, by the entrance. Ryan's breath hitched when he saw the lying figure covered by a white sheet. "No..."

"Ryan, I'm so sorry," Gloria said gently, putting a hand on his arm. "I did everything I could, but..."

Ryan looked at her, saw the sadness in her eyes, the blood on her scrubs. He finally looked around the room. McManus was here, and even his mother, and his eyes stayed on her. "No, please... he can't..."

"Ryan..."

"No, he's not dead. He can't be." Ryan went to the bed, desperation driving him, and pulled the white sheet. He stared, frozen in his spot, and then... then he was laughing.

"Ryan, are you okay?" 

He could see the worry in his mother's eyes, and he hugged her. "I'm fine, Ma. I'm good, really." He turned to Murphy. "What happened?" Not that he gave a damn about his father. If he was dead, he was his own damn fault.

"Look, O'Reily, there won't be any retaliation," McManus said.

Ryan moved away from his mother. "There won't be, but I want to know who did it."

"We don't know," Murphy put in. "A fight broke out in the gym. Aryans started it, but that's the only thing we know for sure."

Ryan nodded. "Anybody else dead?"

Before anyone could answer, McManus stepped in. "We didn't bring you here to be your personal informants, O'Reily. We thought you'd want to know, maybe have a moment."

"I don't need one," Ryan answered.

"Ryan," Suzanne started, "I know he wasn't the best person, but you two were getting closer; maybe you should take this opportunity-"

"No." He turned to her, ice in his eyes. "You left; you left me with him. You don't get to tell me what I should or shouldn't do. The bastard killed my baby sister, he beat me and Cyril to a bloody pulp, he refused to see Cyril, knowing that Cyril was going to die. Don't... don't fucking tell me how I feel. He's done hurting the people I care about, and I am not fucking sorry." Ryan did an about face. "McManus, you find who did this, tell him... tell him I owe him one."

"O'Reily, do you ever shut up? You're talking so loud you're waking the dead."

Ryan span around at the sound of the very familiar drawl. He looked at Miguel, who was standing there in bloody clothes, but otherwise looking just fine. He found difficult hiding the relief, but hugging Miguel wouldn't go too well with the crowd present. "And what the fuck happened to you?"

Miguel raised his shirt, pointing to his left side. "Got stabbed. Dr. Nathan stitched me up."

"Yes, I did, and you shouldn't be walking yet," Gloria pointed out.

"And the fact you're sick is the only thing keeping you and all those..." McManus waved his hand toward the infirmary. "Keeping you out of the hole.

That and the fact that they probably had no room for all of them, Ryan thought, but arguing with McManus wasn't high on his list now. "Jesus, Alvarez, when are you gonna learn that you're not supposed to stop the knife with your body?" he asked with a grin.

"Ha ha, very funny, too bad I was busy staying alive. Now, can you shut the fuck up, so I can get the rest the Doc wants me to have?"

"I don't know about shutting up, but I'm ready to go back now. Murphy?" Ryan asked without taking his eyes off of Miguel. He was totally oblivious to the look exchanged behind him, but for once he didn't care. He walked toward the door, and squeezed Alvarez's shoulder. "See you later."

"I'll be back annoying you in no time, baby. Although-" Miguel winced. "The walking part's still taking time."

Without waiting for anyone, Ryan put his arm around Miguel's waist. "Let's get you to bed. It'd be a shame if I'd have to break in another pod mate."

"You're not getting' rid of me so easily." Miguel leaned against Ryan as they walked. "Clark's dead. No one else, bunch of people in the hole, but no one is talkin'," he whispered.

"Good, I'll square things with the Aryans when lock down ends."

"Sorry about... I tried to stop it."

Ryan shrugged. "He made his choice; nothing we could do. You rest, you hear," he said as he helped Miguel ease into bed. "I'll see you later."

"C'mon, O'Reily," Murphy called from the entrance.

Ryan squeezed Miguel's hand, before following Murphy back to Em City. People thought that the holidays were special for everyone, but not here in Oz, not usually. However this year, he had something to be thankful for. His father was dead, and Miguel was still alive.

* * *

**Part 27 - Prompt 094. Independence: Help**

Ryan looked over his magazine when he heard the door open. "Look what the cat dragged in? I thought you'd be in the hole."

"McManus tried, but Dr. Nathan said I need to rest and be in a clean environment. I suggested a four star hotel, but Officer Mineo thought this was best, ain't that right, Mineo?

"Just get in, Alvarez. Play nice, ladies. Lock down isn't over," Mineo waited for Miguel to slowly make his way inside, before closing the door.

Ryan jumped from his bed. He stopped a few steps from Miguel. "You okay?"

"Yeah, I just need to lie down. Doc wanted to keep us there, but there were too many of us. Hacks thought there'd be another fight."

"No more fights for you." Ryan cupped Miguel's face. His hands traced his neck, and then shoulders, down Miguel's arms. "I thought you were dead." Again, he mentally added. 

Miguel smiled softly, as if he knew, and maybe he did, because the next words out of his mouth were, "Good thing I showed up when I did, then."

"You almost got kissed in front of McManus."

Miguel chuckled. "I'd have loved to see his face... You still haven't kissed me." He pulled Ryan to him. Their foreheads rested together. Miguel's eyes fluttered closed as he felt Ryan bridge the gap, and then their lips brushed together, sliding against each other.

"Better?" Ryan murmured.

"Yeah... but I really need to get in bed, hurts like a bitch." Miguel pulled back. "I need a hand with the shirt."

"Now, you want me to undress you? Jesus, Alvarez, you've got a one track mind."

Miguel showed him a finger. "God, I need a shower, but they won't let me. I gotta wait for these damn stitches to dry up first."

"Here, let me..." Ryan carefully slid the shirt off, letting it fall on the floor. His fingers ran down Miguel's body, going to the side where the white gauze covered the wound. "You're one lucky bastard, Alvarez, any higher and...."

"I know, baby," Miguel said with a grin. "Gonna help with the rest?" he teased.

Ryan didn't bother with words, but he let his hands do the talking. He opened the pants, leaving his hands on Miguel's hips. "Get closer to the bed. It'll be easier." He led Miguel there, before pushing them past his hips. It certainly wasn't the first time they'd been clad in nothing but underwear, but many of the barriers they had created to keep others at bay had disappeared, at least when it came to each other. And now, he couldn't help but touch warm skin, even though he knew better, sliding down Miguel's thighs. Ryan stepped back abruptly. "Lie down," he said breathless.

"Is that an invitation, O'Reily?" Miguel drawled out, but the wince as he sat down betrayed his tone.

"Maybe when you can sit without pain," Ryan countered. He went to his trunk, and pulled out some towels. He tossed one on the bed, next to Miguel, before wetting the smaller one.

"This'll have to do." Slowly, almost reverently, the hot towel glided over Miguel's chest. "You have to be more careful... how the hell am I gonna keep you alive..."

Miguel's fingers clamped on his wrist, holding to the point of pain. Ryan looked up. "What?"

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?"

"Helping you, you fuck," Ryan answered annoyed.

"Yeah, I think you're confused, O'Reily. You ain't keepin' me alive, 'cause I'm not your fucking prag, and you're not playin' nursemaid 'cause I'm not your brother."

Ryan threw the wet towel on Miguel's arm. "Fuck you, Alvarez. I should know better than to help an asshole like you." He got up, and went to his bed without another word. He mentally kicked himself. If there was one thing his father had taught him was that you never cared for anyone. At least his father was right on that score.

* * *

**Part 28 - Prompt 054. Air: Clearing the Air**

"Hello," Father Ray said with a smile as he walked inside the pod. Both inmates were in their respective beds, but only Miguel paid him any attention.

"Father, good to see ya." Miguel sat up and slid to the edge of the bed. "What can I do for you?"

Mukada stepped in further, standing to the side of the bunk beds. "Actually, I came to see Ryan." 

"If you're looking for donations, it'd be wise to wait until lock down's over," Ryan replied without raising his eyes from his magazine.

"McManus informed that you've declined the opportunity to go to your father's funeral."

Ryan closed the magazine and dropped it on the mattress. "What's it to you?"

"I thought that maybe you changed your mind."

Miguel watched the priest. He was standing up, holding his bible with both hands right in front of him. Miguel always though that he looked like Mukada was using it to protect himself from the anger that poured out from everyone in Oz. He certainly wasn't ready for Ryan's anger; Miguel knew that.

He stood up, and rested his arms on Ryan's bed. "Why don't you want go?"

"None of your fucking business, Alvarez," Ryan spat out. "And Father, he only died two days ago. I ain't changing my mind so quickly."

"You should go," Miguel said calmly.

"And you should go fuck off," Ryan rebutted. 

"It would be a chance to say goodbye, have some closure," Father Mukada said.

"Fuck that- Sorry, Father." Miguel barely looked at the priest as he apologized. "It's a chance to be outside, O'Reily. See the sky. Sun or rain, it don't matter, you'll be outside. C'mon, man, you gotta want a few hours on the outside."

"I've gone to a funeral already, Alvarez. A funeral is a sign of respect, of love, of family and friendship. Cyril deserved to have his family there. I'm not gonna do the same for my old man; I won't put them on the same level, even if it means missing a few hours outside. And Father..." Ryan finally sat up, acknowledging the priest for the first time. "You're not guilting me into going, not for him, not for my aunt, not even for Ma. I don't do shit for no one, not unless I want to. But people 'round here don't get that," he finished with a glance at Miguel.

"All right, Ryan, but if you change your mind, just let the guards know, and they'll make arrangements for tomorrow."

"Don't hold your breath." Ryan lay back down, picking up his magazine once more.

"If there is anything you need... anything I could do..." Mukada tried. 

"You could tell McManus to let us out. We're running out of clean underwear."

Ray smiled. "I'm sure he'll consider your request. Goodbye, guys."

"Bye, Father." Miguel made the trek to the door, careful with his injury. "Thanks for... y'know... trying and for visitin' me in the infirmary."

"I'm always glad to see you, Miguel. Although it'd be nice if I didn't have to see you while you're Dr. Nathan's patient."

"I try, Father, but shit happens, y'know."

"I know, Miguel," Ray said, squeezing Miguel's arm. "Maybe you could try moving to a different place when things happen..." he said with a grin.

"I'll try, Father."

"Good, I'll see you soon." Ray knocked on the door, and Armstrong let him out, before locking the door again.

Miguel returned to the bunk beds. Hand around his body, he climbed onto the top bed, sliding between Ryan and the wall. "I might have overreacted last night."

"You're worse than a chick PMSing."

Miguel burrowed his head into the crook of Ryan's neck, smiling. "Put that down; I know you aren't readin' it."

"Unlike some, I get all my magazines for the pictures. It don't matter if it's Travels or Playboy." Ryan laid the closed magazine on his stomach. "What the hell was that about?"

"You... you enjoy this, the games, the scheming, the dance. Me, I hate it; it's tiring, but I do what I gotta to stay alive."

"And? I don't see what it's got to do with you going batshit."

"I don't need you to do shit for me, okay?"

"I was trying to help, for fuck's sake."

Miguel sighed. "I know, but what you said... it sounded like you don't think I can take care of myself, like I need you to protect me..."

"It sounded like I see you as my prag," Ryan finished. He began brushing Miguel's hair. "I didn't mean it that way. You were hurt, hell you're still hurt, and I was helping."

Miguel nodded. "I know... still, gut reaction, y'know?"

"Alvarez, you idiot, I'd never get into business with someone who I think is weak. Stupid, maybe; dangerous, always, but weak, never. It gets everyone killed."

Miguel drew his head back, chuckling. "Glad to know you have standards, O'Reily."

"And what was that crack about Cyril?"

"I don't want your pity, O'Reily."

Ryan grabbed Miguel's face. "You listen to me. I loved my brother, cared for him, and I was sorry that because of me, he suffered, but I never, ever pitied him, and I don't pity you. I was glad that you were alive, and sorry that because of my dad you were hurt, you asshole."

"You say the most romantic things, O'Reily," Miguel commented with a grin.

Ryan snorted. "Glad we understand each other."

"We do." Miguel leaned in. "You're not gonna hit me if I kiss you."

"Should have hit you last night, but since you're injured, and all that crap." Ryan pulled him closer, mouths meeting gently for an instant, before Miguel slipped his tongue past Ryan's teeth, sighing happily.

The knock on the glass made them jump. "Cut it out you two."

"Fuck you, Armstrong," Ryan answered automatically.

"Hey, wanna end up in the hole?" Miguel asked, pulling away, but not leaving the bed.

"Nah, they won't send me there, at least not until after the funeral. McManus is still hoping," he said with a roll of his eyes. "And you're too sick, remember?" Ryan sighed when Armstrong banged again, and sat up. "All right, Jesus, you'd think we're fucking."

Miguel rolled onto his back, and grinned. "Not fucking, but I'm sure we can get *up* to something when lights come out."

"Like the way you think, Alvarez."

* * *

**Part 29 - Prompt 042. Triangle: Regrouping**

Two days later, the lock down was over, which meant time for business for Ryan. He didn't waste any time. Breakfast was just as good a time as any to do what he needed to.

He left the serving line when things were quieting down, walked down the isle, and went to the Aryan table. "We gotta talk, Schuster."

Schuster nodded to the man to his right, and a place was vacated for Ryan. "Look, O'Reily, we'll get the Spicks for what they did to Clark and your father. We need time. No one wants another lock down so soon."

"No, you look, Schuster, I'm running a business here, and I don't want a lock down, period. Not now, not tomorrow, not in a week."

Schuster stuck his knife in his apple. "Are you saying you don't want your father avenged? You gonna let that Spick run all over you."

"See there?" Ryan nodded to the kitchen where Miguel and Pancamo were talking. "That Spick is my business partner. That Spick is Pancamo's partner. No one wants things to happen. Not me, not Alvarez, and not Pancamo."

Ryan turned, straddling the bench. "See, here is our problem. My dear dad wanted a part of the business, and it looks to us like he turned to you to make things happen. Tsk, tsk, really that wasn't smart, you know Pancamo doesn't like when people cross him when it comes to business."

"That's not what happened, O'Reily," Schuster spat. "You know that."

"Do I?" Ryan said innocently. "I don't know anything. I only know that you tried to fuck with me, with all of us, after we pay you good money. So you see? We have a problem."

"It wasn't business, O'Reily. Your father wanted him dead, we only... gave him same help."

"You should know better than to help someone in this fucking place. It never ends good. It didn't end good for my dad, did it? So this is what I see. I forget that my dad is dead. You forget that Clark is dead. Pancamo forgets you tried to screw him. How's it sound?"

Schuster leaned closer. "I can't let the death of one of my men go unavenged."

"I agree with you, but was this guy really one of yours? I mean the man tried to kill Alvarez twice, and he failed... but then, he was too busy fucking Torquemada, who was a faggot and a Spick." Ryan shook his head. "Really, is this the type of person you want in the Brotherhood?"

Schuster chewed on his lip for a moment. O'Reily had given him a way out, a way to convince the other Aryans that Clark wasn't really one of them. After all, no respected Aryan would fuck a Spick. "Fine, but I don't do no deal with a Spick."

"You won't have to. You deal with me and Pancamo, but if your people touch Alvarez, there will be hell to pay." Ryan stood up and patted Schuster's back. "I'm glad we're in agreement."

He went straight to the kitchen, and stood next to Miguel. "Aryans will back off, but then again, they have no brains, so who knows."

Pancamo nodded. "I'll have a talk with that fucker in a few days, make sure he does understand that we want no problems. How are we at supplies?"

"We've getting a new shipment next week. With the holidays coming, people like to drown their sorrows in the bottle," Miguel said matter of fact.

"Tits aren't a bad choice either," Ryan added with a grin. 

"Yeah, we might have to postpone shipments for a few days," Pancamo said. "Word is that Querns is going to have a shakedown, all units at once. I'll know the exact date in a few days. He'll clean up, and we'll be ready to hand out candies the very next day. Just like Santa."

* * *

**Part 30 - Prompt 066. Rain: Regeneration**

Ryan grabbed Miguel's arm as he was leaving from the infirmary. "C'mon, quick. We only have a few minutes."

Miguel frowned, but sped up, following Ryan. "Aren't those doors supposed to be locked?" he asked as Ryan pulled him into a stairway.

"It's magic, Alvarez. I still haven't managed to let the hacks 'forget' to close the front gate, but I'm working on it. C'mon, enough with the questions. We need to go up," he said as he climbed the stairs two at a time.

With a sigh, Miguel followed. God only knew what they were getting into this time. Strangely, he didn't really mind. He stopped behind Ryan when they reached the top ramp. "So what now?"

"Look." Ryan pointed to the window. It was secured with a metal grate, but even that couldn't keep the sky out. "It's raining."

Miguel slipped his fingers through the holes, smiling as droplets of water hit his skin. "This is..." He turned and smiled at Ryan. "Thank you."

"I didn't make the rain." Ryan wrapped his arms around Miguel, pressing his body against Miguel's body, and resting his head on Miguel's shoulder as they both looked outside. "What's up with you and rain? You're always talking about it."

"I know it sounds stupid, but I miss it. The sun... you close your eyes under the light, and you almost think it's the sun. And I don't miss the snow, that's too fuckin' cold, but the rain, that summer rain when it's too hot, and you stand under it, big drops, and it's the best feeling, 'cause we didn't have no A/C at home. Or the rain in the spring, and everything smells good." Miguel let go of the grate, and span around. He wanted to find the right words to thank Ryan for giving him this, but everything sounded wrong. He settled for another, "Thank you."

"I told you-"

"Don't... okay? Just don't. It means something to me," he whispered as he leaned closer. "It means something that someone would do this for me." 

Miguel wasn't expecting an answer, he certainly wasn't expecting Ryan to push him against the wall, and crash their lips together. Then Ryan's tongue was inside his mouth, taking, licking, fucking it as their hips rocked against each other.

Much better than a 'you're welcome', Miguel thought, but then again, any verbal acknowledgment would mean admitting that they were actually doing things for each other because they cared. No, this was much simpler, and more pleasurable.

"You're thinking..." Ryan let out in a frenzy of movements as his pushed down Miguel's pants. "And not about my hand on your dick."

Miguel curled his fingers around Ryan's neck, staring at the man for a moment, and then pulling Ryan closer for another kiss. Definitely better than talking.

The hand around his dick sent shivers down his back. He loved the feel of Ryan's agile fingers sliding up and down his cock with just the right amount of pressure. Even with all the kissing they did, this was still new, rare. He could count on one hand the times that Ryan had taken the initiative, and it had always been Ryan, because Miguel was too smart to push Ryan into anything.

He wanted more, and needed to think fast, thing of something that wouldn't scare Ryan off. "Wait, baby." And his hands were fumbling with Ryan's pants, until he freed Ryan's cock. 

Miguel slid a hand beneath the waistband of Ryan's jeans, cupping his ass as he pulled Ryan closer. Ryan didn't seem to mind, instead he stepped closer and their cocks glided against each other, stealing moans from both men. 

Miguel spat on his hand, and closed his fist around their joint cock, still desperately clutching at Ryan. He couldn't tell where he ended and Ryan began, so close they were. Ryan's hand joined his, moving frantically as they found their mouths again and again.

It was quick, violent, and lacking finesse. It was the only thing they could give each other in this place, the only thing that wouldn't strip them raw and leave them bare. They held on to this intimacy with bites and nips, until their orgasms built up inside them.

Ryan came first, softening his cry into the damp skin of Miguel's neck. He stayed there, leaning against Miguel, chest heaving with short breaths, their joined hands still pumping until Miguel came, hot come spilling on their hands.

"We have to go soon," Ryan whispered forlornly. 

Miguel rested his hand against Ryan's back as he nipped at the sensitive skin of Ryan's neck, before kissing it. "Okay," he finally said with a sigh. He pulled back, and wiped his hand on the blue shirt, but Ryan grabbed his wrist before he could clean his hand completely. "What?"

Ryan kept his eyes on Miguel as he ran the flat of his tongue against Miguel's palm. He didn't miss the flash of lust on Miguel's face as he did so. It'd been an honest curiosity, but the reaction was more than he had anticipated, and Miguel was on him again, sucking on his tongue, holding him in place with a hand behind his head. "We can't... we gotta go."

Miguel chuckled, frustration clear in his voice. "I couldn't get it up anyway, not in the next two minutes." Reluctantly, he let go of Ryan. He took off the blue shirt, and used to wipe them clean. "Good thing I was wearing scrubs."

Ryan grinned as he zipped his pants. "Good thing it's winter and you have layers. Walking into Em City with no shirt would have been fun to explain. Let's go, or our asses are toast."

Miguel went down, still in a daze. The whole encounter had taken less than fifteen minutes. He felt swallowed by a wind whirl of sensations and needs and feelings, a wind whirl named O'Reily. 

"Are you okay?" Ryan asked with a frown as he cracked the door to see if the coast was clear.

"Yeah, fine... tired, y'know." 

"I know." 

The smirk was back in place, and Miguel wondered how easily he could have wiped it if he had pointed out that arranging for him to see the rain was almost a declaration of love in this fucking place. Then Ryan playfully bumped into him, with a real smile on his face, and Miguel had no problem forgetting about making a point. 

"You're in a good mood, today," Murphy commented as they entered Em City. "What have you been up to?"

Miguel chuckled, but Ryan opened his arms. "Nothing at all."

Murphy shook his head, and grinned. "I'll pretend to believe you. Now go, count is in five minutes."

Miguel laid his arm on Ryan's shoulder as they walked away. "Five minutes... next time we might want to try not cutting it so close."

"You're the one that kept distracting me. I only wanted to show you the rain." Ryan put as much sincerity in his voice as he could muster, but finally grinned. "We'll figure something out."

Miguel nodded, accepting the answer for now. Of course, the more pressing question was whether once the high passed, Ryan would start brooding again. It was part of the routine: kiss, get off, Ryan's brooding. Miguel hoped that maybe this time, the rain could wash away the doubts.

* * *

**Part 31 - Prompt 068. Lightening: All I Want For Christmas**

Deck the halls, decorate the tree, hang the mistletoe, sing Christmas carols. None of that fucking shit existed in Oz. There was no excitement about the next day, no parties waiting for the midnight. They didn't even know if it was snowing or sunny outside.

Ryan sat behind his mother, in the cafeteria, watching the show the inmates had put on. It was the usual ensemble of bad singing, bad acting, lousy props (wood guns to avoid any accidental switches), and way too many deaths. He wondered why the hell his mother couldn't come up with something cheerier; they all had enough death in their lives without needing to watch it reenacted on stage.

When it was over, Ryan was the first to clap and congratulate his mother, not because he liked it, but because it was his mother.

Suzanne hugged him. "I'll see you tomorrow, okay? I'll be here for the Mass and we'll spend some time together."

"You don't have to, Ma. No sense for both of us not to enjoy the day."

She kissed his cheek. "I enjoy every moment I spend with you, Ryan. There's nowhere else I want to be, and no one else I want to spend Christmas with."

"Okay, then I'll see you tomorrow." Ryan heard his name being called by Murphy, and breathed in relief. He was not in a good mood and there was no point in dragging his mother down with him. "I gotta go." 

"Bye, Ryan." She let go of his hand, and Ryan walked with Murphy to Em City. Count was the usual boring affair, and soon he was inside in his pod with Miguel.

Without a word, he sat on Miguel's bed, resting his back against the wall. "Show sucked."

"Gee, thanks, O'Reily." Miguel grinned. "Next year, we'll get the Rockettes." 

"That'd be an improvement." Ryan chewed on his lip. He was too tired to even banter, and that was a sign that it was better to keep his mouth shut before he said something stupid. "I'm going to sleep," he said getting up.

He was about to go up, when Miguel stopped him by pressing his body against Ryan's back. Miguel moved his hands over Ryan's arms, until he intertwined his fingers with Ryan's. "You okay?" he whispered in Ryan's ear.

Ryan took a deep breath. "Yeah... it's nothing."

Miguel squeezed Ryan's fingers. "Just 'cause it ain't business, it doesn't mean it's nothing." 

Ryan turned a little, allowing him to see Miguel. "What was Christmas at your house?"

"Christmas?" Miguel repeated surprised. "It was fun... we didn't get much toys or anything, but it was... loud, with lots of kids and aunts. Not many uncles 'cause... well, they were either dead or in jail. My mamá and my tias would cook for hours. We had a big dinner, and they would drag us to church. God, it was a mess trying to keep all the kids quiet."

Ryan cracked a smile. "Sounds nice, not like my house. Dad drunk, Tessie cryin' when she was alive, black and blues were the gifts we got. But then we got old enough, and Cyril and I would leave on Christmas Eve, hide in Shannon's basement. We had fun there. 

"After Shannon and I got married, we used to have huge parties. There was enough coke around that we didn't need no snow to have a white Christmas, but no matter who was around, it was about me and Cyril, y'know? We always ended up spending the night talking and laughing and just doing all the shit we never could as kids."

Miguel wrapped his arms around Ryan, holding him tight. Ryan closed his eyes, fighting the tears that built up when he felt the gentle comfort. "I miss him," he confessed, voice cracking as he spoke.

"I'm sorry."

Ryan shook his head, before reopening his eyes. "Nothing we can do, right? I'm going to bed."

Miguel kissed Ryan's shoulder. "You know where to find me if you wanna talk."

Ryan nodded, and jumped on his bed. He rolled to his side, hugging his pillow. The moment he closed his eyes, he was back in time. His house filled with people, Cyril standing out in the crowd, with girls always around, Christmas songs providing the sound track for the night.

The more he tried to chase the images away, the more they returned. He could swear that he could hear 'Silent Night', but there were no angels in Oz, no one to bring joy to the world. It shouldn't be so bad, he had spent other Christmas Eves in jail before, but this year Cyril was dead. There was no hope to see him again.

Ryan spent the hours tossing and turning, his mind refusing to shut down. Chestnuts and champagne, presents and coke, but always Cyril, Cyril laughing, them sitting on a couch joking, them at Mass before going out to kick some ass. When the lights went out, it only got worse. Even with his eyes opened, he could see the Christmas That Was. 

Giving up any pretense of sleep, he climbed down and joined Miguel. Immediately he felt a hand rest on his stomach, warm and soothing. God, when had Miguel learned to read what he needed? He covered Miguel's hand with his. "I was thinking..."

"I know. You were so loud they heard you all the way to the front gate," Miguel said with a smile.

"You know that song... All I want for Christmas?" Miguel nodded at the question. "I was thinking, I can want the world, but let's face it, I'm never getting out of here. You... in a few years, you're out, but not me. I want Cyril back, but I can't have him. I want Miss Sally naked in my pod-"

Miguel snickered. "Don't we all, baby?"

"Yeah, but I still ain't getting any of it. I can only want what I can have in here," Ryan finished.

"So what? I'm like the consolation price, that's why you're here?" Miguel asked, annoyed.

"That's not what I'm saying."

"So what are you saying, O'Reily?"

Ryan rolled on top of Miguel, straddling his hips. "What I'm saying is that I don't give a fuck what people think. Those fuckers have to do business with us regardless."

Miguel reached for Ryan and pulled him down, resting his cheek against Ryan's. "All I want for Christmas is you... the song I mean... that's how it goes."

Ryan pulled back slightly, looking at Miguel. He brushed his fingers against Miguel's lips. "Yeah... that's how it goes," he whispered before he captured Miguel's lips again and again, coming up for breath, but always finding his way back to Miguel's mouth. 

Miguel was happy to let Ryan lead, ignoring the desperation of each new kiss and the silent tears Ryan was shedding, because some things were never mentioned, regardless of how close you got. 

Miguel held on tighter, crushing Ryan against his chest until neither was breathing, but they didn't stop moving, their hips rocking frantically, their tongues dueling, their hands touching. Their breathing enveloped the room; rough gasps and chocked moans filling the pod. "God... so close, baby."

Ryan's mouth was on his again, stopping any more words, and Miguel surrendered to the pleasure, wetness spreading in his pants. He held on tighter with one arm, while his other hand moved under Ryan's sweatshirt, resting against Ryan's heaving chest. He squeezed Ryan's nipple, whispering to him, "Let go, baby."

All movement stopped, and then Ryan sagged against Miguel. "I gotcha, baby." When Ryan didn't answer, not even a snicker, Miguel knew how much the night had affected him and how much he was willing to let Miguel see.

They stayed together in the silent room, until Ryan sat up. "We need to change before the hacks come to bust our balls."

Miguel ran his hands over Ryan's thighs. "But then you're coming back to this bed."

"I wasn't plannin' on going nowhere."

It took only a few minutes, and they were back in bed. When Miguel wrapped an arm around him, Ryan didn't feel the need to see if anyone was watching them. He didn't care anymore. This was wrong, unnatural, but he didn't give a fuck about that either. All he wanted for Christmas was right here, in this pod.

* * *

**Part 32 - Prompt 014. Green: Bets**

Mineo did his rounds through Em City. This might be Christmas Eve everywhere else, but in Oz it was a night like every other. He finished to check the upstairs pods before coming down the stairs, shaking his head. 

Murphy took a look at him and grinned. "I told you I'd win."

"How the fuck did you know?" Mineo took an envelope from his pants' back pocket and handed it to Murphy, who opened it, and counted the money inside. "What? You don't trust me?"

Murphy chuckled. "You never know in this place..."

Mineo nodded toward the door. "Howell's back."

"Oh joy," Murphy murmured under his breath, but smiled when he saw her come up the stairs with McManus. "Still here, Tim?"

"Yeah, Gloria's on duty tonight, you're here. I figured why go home. And I'm giving Claire's the tour, showing her how nothing ever change."

"Some things change," Mineo muttered. 

"Yeah, what's that? We take bribes now," Howell said pointing to the envelope Murphy was holding.

"This," Murphy answered, waving the envelope, "is the result of keen observation."

Mineo snorted. "He won a bet, and now he thinks he's Sherlock fucking Holmes."

"Hey, thirty people bet and I'm the one to get it right."

"Pure luck!"

"Oh no, Mineo, you people know what O'Reily does; I know him. That's the difference."

Tim rolled his eyes. "So what was the bet?"

Mineo and Murphy looked at each other for a moment, but it was Murphy who answered. "When O'Reily and Alvarez would fuck?"

"Oh c'mon, everyone knows-"

"That O'Reily doesn't fuck men in the ass," Murphy finished for Howell. "Yes, but things have changed."

"Wait." McManus frowned. "You're saying that they are upstairs fucking?"

Murphy grinned. "Nope, I'm saying that they are upstairs not fucking."

"He picked the last day available for the pool," Mineo explained. "Son of a bitch had us all fooled. I thought for certain that by now, y'know with all the touching and kissing... but no."

"You've been betting about two inmates doing something they aren't supposed to do?" McManus asked again.

Howell shook her head. "They are betting about O'Reily, that's insane enough."

"Oh, but you haven't seen them," Mineo retorted. "They're up there, sleeping very dressed and on top of the blankets, but still in the same bed, holding each other. It would almost be human if O'Reily wasn't such a sociopath."

"And you're letting them?" McManus asked Murphy.

Sean shrugged. "They aren't doing anything wrong. No fucking, and every C.O. in this place has been looking."

Mineo sat down. "Yeah, if it hasn't happened until now, it ain't happening." He turned when Murphy snorted. "Now you think it'll happen?" he asked in disbelief.

"Hell, yeah, just not yet."

"Put your money where your mouth is."

Murphy grinned. "I already did."

"Nah, a new pool, and you pick the first date instead of waiting for everyone else," Mineo said.

"Fine, Valentine's Day," Murphy replied without a doubt.

McManus snorted. "What? Now, O'Reily is a romantic?"

Murphy laughed. "I'm not high, Tim. No, if he fucks Alvarez on a normal day, then he's fucked a guy. If he fucks Alvarez on Valentine's Day, it's a fluke."

"That's twisted," Mineo remarked.

"But very much in character for O'Reily," Howell commented. 

"All right, fine, New Year's for me," Mineo put in. "What about you guys?"

Howell shook her head. "Oh no, I'm not betting against O'Reily. The man has a way to screw you without you knowing it."

"Tim, c'mon," Murphy said with a grin.

McManus sighed. "Fine, but no tricks. C.O.s aren't allowed to stop them just because it isn't the day they picked."

"Just to make things clear." Murphy leaned forward. "You're telling us that we can watch, but not stop them if we see them fucking." 

"It's to keep the game fair," McManus says, nodding. "I didn't say you're not going to stop them every time after that."

"You're a sick bastard, Tim."

"O'Reily inspires me, and now..." He nodded toward his office. "There is liquor in my office. I won't tell if you don't."

* * *

**Part 33 - Prompt 092. Christmas: Presents**

"The Mass is ended, go in peace."

"Thanks be to God," was the choral answer that signaled the end of the Christmas Mass.

Ryan turned and found himself in his mother's arms. "Merry Christmas, Ma."

"Merry Christmas." Suzanne pulled back and smiled at Miguel who was sitting next to them. "Merry Christmas to you as well, Miguel." She hesitated a moment, and then hugged him as well.

Miguel looked at Ryan in surprise, but the Irishman only shrugged. "Merry Christmas, Suzanne," he said as he stepped back.

She moved closer to Ryan, taking his hand in hers. "I have some things for you, all legal, went through the Department of Correction, got receipts and everything, but I didn't want to bring them down here. Sister Pete let me store them in her office, and I've told Tim that you'll be with me and Sister Pete, so there is no problem."

"I have to check, but I'm sure I can take a few moments from my busy schedule," Ryan answered, grinning.

Suzanne laughed. "I'm so happy you could fit me in."

"All right, let's go." Ryan turned to Miguel. "Comin'?"

"I should really go..."

"Nonsense, I have brought something for you as well. Come on." Suzanne hooked a hand under each man's arm, and walked toward Sister Pete's office.

Ryan and Miguel exchanged looks, and Ryan was pretty sure that there was an unspoken 'it's your mamá, why the hell are you looking at me' meaning to Miguel's stare. Ryan leaned toward Suzanne. "Ma, you do remember we're in Oz, right?"

"Oh, you mean this isn't the yellow brick road. For a moment, I was starting to feel like Dorothy," she said looking at her arms.

"I'm pretty sure we ain't in Kansas," Miguel answered with a grin.

She stopped and held Ryan's hands. "Indulge me. Last year, we didn't have a chance to really enjoy our Christmas with..." Suzanne trailed off.

"With Cyril's execution," Ryan finished in a whisper. 

"I'm sorry, Ryan. I didn't mean to bring it up."

"It's okay. It's not like I've stopped thinking about it," he said with a sad smile. "Don't worry, Ma." He kissed her cheek. "Let's go see Sister Pete."

It only took them a few minutes to get upstairs. Suzanne knocked on the opened door. "Can we come in?"

"Of course, come on in. I was trying to clean this desk. I'm telling you, files multiply when I'm not looking," she said, filing away another files. "Come on, sit down. I promise not to ask questions today."

Ryan took a seat, and Miguel rolled the computer chair behind Ryan's.

Suzanne went to the corner filled with shopping bags, and took two. 

"Did you leave anything in the stores, Suzanne?" Sister Pete asked with a smile.

"I tried not to," she answered with a grin. "Besides, I have to make up for thirty-five years." 

"You don't-"

She waved her hand. "I know what I did, Ryan. You don't have to protect me from the truth. Here." She handed him a bag, and one to Miguel. "It's not much, shirts, socks, sweat shirts. With the rules, and everything."

Miguel took his bag, still surprised. "Thank you, you really didn't have to."

"I think I do," she said softly.

"Ma, they're great, really."

Suzanne smiled. "You might want to look at them first."

"They'll be great no matter what." Ryan pulled out a green shirt.

Miguel reached over Ryan's shoulder and took the shirt from him. "Oh gee, look, more green shirts," he commented with a grin.

"Green is the new black, Alvarez. Besides, you don't mind when you steal mine." Ryan took the shirt back, trying to stop the smile from appearing on his face.

"I borrow, and I always return them."

"Yeah, in time for me to do the fucking laundry. Maybe if you stop ripping the sleeves in yours, you won't have to borrow mine."

"They look cool, not that you'd know anything about style, O'Reily."

Sister Pete sat at her desk, watching the exchange with interest. She hadn't seen them together in a long time. She'd heard all the rumors, of course. Difficult not to in a place like Oz, still she didn't really think they were true. However, it was difficult not to see the affection between the two men. Again, that didn't mean much in Oz. Keller and Tobias were the perfect example. She sighed.

"Everything all right, Sister?" Miguel asked.

"Yes, I was thinking..." She shook her head. "Nothing important. So what else do you have, Suzanne?"

"Oh yes." She picked up the rest of the bags, and took the other chair. She handed a smaller bag to each man. Suzanne watched as they unwrapped their gifts, and she felt a small pang when she realized that it was the first time she'd seen her son open a Christmas present. "I've got a few tapes to go with those walkmans. I wasn't sure about your taste, and of course, the state thinks that tape players are perfectly safe, but CD players are too dangerous. I'm not even going to try and understand that one."

Ryan squeezed her hand. "Ma, the walkman is great, and the tapes are fine, more than fine. Everything is great."

"There is one more thing I got you." She pulled out a box from the last bag. "Since you're always running, I figured maybe this might help you keep track of time, yes?"

"Oh look, it's a green watch, O'Reily."

Ryan smacked Miguel's hand away. "Stop it, Alvarez, or I'll have to tell Ma to take those away."

"Hey, you don't take gifts back."

Ryan leaned back on his chair, using Miguel for balance. "But I can borrow them." He then got up, and hugged Suzanne. "The watch is beautiful. Thank you for everything, Ma." 

"Oh Ryan... baby... I wish I could do more."

"You've done enough," he whispered, before sitting back. 

"There is one more thing," Sister Pete said with a mischievous look on her face. "Your mother tempted me, but I've resisted." She took out a large paper bag from one drawer. She opened a paper napkin on the table, and poured some of the content on the napkin. "They're still warm."

"Holy shit," Miguel exclaimed when he saw the roasted chestnut on the table.

"Jesus Christ, Ma, these are definitely better than the socks." Ryan grabbed two, and handed one to Miguel. "Haven't had one of these in-"

"Seven fucking years," Miguel finished.

Suzanne smiled happily. Such a small thing, and yet it had brightened their faces like a true Christmas gift should. "Maybe I should bring food more often."

"Hell, yes. I'd offer you my soul, but I'm pretty sure the devil's got dibs on it," Miguel said matter of fact between a piece of chestnut and the next.

"God, Alvarez, are you sayin' you're gonna be around even after I die?"

Miguel leaned closer. "You're stuck with me, baby." As he spoke he reached for another chestnut.

"You eat them all and you'll make that trip to hell a lot sooner than you think."

"You ain't gonna kill me, O'Reily. Remember? You'd have to break in another pod mate," Miguel said, winking.

"Chestnuts... I don't know, man... it might be worth it, y'know?" Ryan said with a grin.

There was a knock on the door, and Mineo was standing there. "Time to go back." He looked at Suzanne apologetically. 

"Yes, it's back to Emerald City, where neon lights are shining bright," Ryan said sarcastically. He stood up, and hugged his mother again. "Thank you for everything, Ma."

"My pleasure, baby." 

"Yeah, thanks. It was really nice of you," Miguel added.

Suzanne nodded. She watched as they collected their gifts and left with Mineo.

Sister Pete stood next to her. "It's very nice what you did for them." 

"It doesn't feel enough. I wanted to buy so much, but he isn't allowed to have much here, and then Miguel... it's so sad to be alone. I was ready to buy gifts for everyone I know here."

"We do what we can, Suzanne. You made both of them happy, and that's what counts. It's not even about what you give them. I think most men in here want to know that there is someone who thinks about them."

Suzanne turned to Sister Pete and smiled. "I think Miguel is doing a lot of thinking about Ryan, and vice versa."

"Yes, I might have heard a thing or two," Sister Pete answered with her own amused smile.

Suzanne crossed her arms in front of her, and shook her head. "Sometimes, I think the C.O.s forget that I'm his mother. I was asked if I wanted to bet on my son's sexual life. Murphy was ready to kill the guy."

Sister Pete laughed. "They haven't asked me yet, but I'll let you know when it happens."

"Well... I'd better go. Merry Christmas, Pete."

"Merry Christmas." Sister Pete watched her go, still thinking about Miguel and Ryan. Maybe things would be different for them, better, but she promised to herself to keep an eye on both of them.

* * *

**Part 34 - A New Year**

**Prompt 095. New Year: 11:59 pm**

Em City was enveloped in darkness, just like every other night of the year. Mineo and Armstrong sat at the C.O. station, drinking their coffee, and chatting away. Nothing was different, nothing showed that today another year was starting.

Miguel looked at his watch, before slipping out of his bed and into Ryan's. He rested on his side and watched for a moment. He had hoped that Ryan would wake up on his own, but the Irishman didn't give any signs of opening his eyes. Miguel ran his fingers over Ryan's neck and ear.

Ryan swatted the offending hand before rolling on his side, protecting his neck from the touch. "You'd better have a good reason for waking me up or you're dead, Alvarez." Ryan's voice was thick with sleep.

"Do you know what time it is?"

Ryan opened his eyes and glared at Miguel. "I was fucking sleepin'; how the fuck should I know?"

Miguel thrust his arm in front of Ryan, showing his watch. "Look, it's almost midnight."

"Oh shit, I'm so excited! Are you gonna wake me up every hour on the hour now?" Ryan asked sarcastically.

Miguel smacked his arm. "It's New Year's Eve, it's almost midnight. It's special, y'know?"

"Yeah, right, how could I forget? We can celebrate the start of a new year that is gonna bring... wait? I think I know this one... more jail, more shitty food, more killings... hell, yes, how could I not want to celebrate?"

"Fuck, O'Reily, are you always such a fucking prick during the holidays?" While his tone was hard, Miguel's touch was gentle, rubbing Ryan's back, moving past the barrier of clothing to rest on warm skin.

"I'm always a prick." Ryan was willing to admit that Miguel had a point. He had been a prick throughout the holidays, with momentary bouts of normal behavior, or what passed as normal for him. He laid his hand on Miguel's waist, and he forced himself to feel some enthusiasm. "How are we celebrating?"

Miguel showed him a bottle.

Ryan raised his eyebrows. "Tequila?"

"They were late delivering the Moet & Chandon," Miguel answered sarcastically. 

"You'll have to complain to your supplier, Alvarez." Ryan sat up as he spoke. "I guess we'll have to celebrate the Mexican way then."

"That's the spirit, O'Reily." Miguel got comfortable, or as much as he could in the narrow bed; he unscrewed the bottle and waited.

"What?"

"It's not midnight yet," Miguel said with a grin.

Ryan sighed and rolled his eyes. "We wouldn't want to break any rules, would we?"

"Of course not. We're such law-abiding citizens... Okay, minus five... four... three... two... one..."

Bang!

"Son of a bitch, those hacks are celebrating out there." Ryan started to move, but Miguel stopped him.

"What? You're gonna bitch to the Warden 'cause they are breaking the rules? Who gives a fuck? Here..." Miguel handed him the bottle. "Happy New Year."

Ryan took the bottle, but didn't drink from it. Then, he took a deep breath. There was no point complaining about the unfairness of it all; he had learned that long ago. "Happy New Year," he said before taking a swig from the bottle. He winced as the liquor made its way down, and passed the bottle to Miguel. He still couldn't understand how people enjoyed this so much to become alcoholics. 

Instead of drinking, Miguel pulled the blanket away and his fingers hooked the elastic of Ryan's boxers, but he didn't pull them down. "Trust me?" he asked wickedly.

"You should know better than to ask a stupid question like that," Ryan answered immediately, but his eyes glistened with anticipation.

"Just 'cause I know something, it don't mean I'm going to do it.... Take your shirt off, baby; let me show you how we gonna celebrate."

Ryan's mouth went dry. They'd seen each other naked, but they'd never done it naked. This was another line he'd promised himself he wouldn't cross, but his cock was twitching, hardening at the mere thought. "No fucking." Ryan didn't know if he was stating it or asking.

"No fucking, baby," Miguel reassured him, while drawing circles on Ryan's abs with his thumb. 

Another beat. More hesitation, but then Ryan took his shirt off. He lay down, eyes always on Miguel. His boxers were off in no time, and his heart sped up. He had no idea what Miguel had in mind, he wasn't sure he should trust the other man, but then again, there was still a shank under his pillow and his cock seemed to like the attention.

Miguel kneeled between Ryan's spread legs, his hand running over Ryan's thigh. "Fuck, you look good, O'Reily." He smiled when he saw the flush spread through Ryan's pale skin. Embarrassment or lust, or maybe a mix of the two, it didn't matter to Miguel, as long as Ryan played along.

"Alvarez, you better be doing something and soon, or I'm going back to sleep," Ryan threatened.

Holding the bottle between his knees, Miguel pulled his shirt off, and then, bottle in hand, he leaned over Ryan. "I plan to shut you up, O'Reily," he said, kissing Ryan before the man could complain.

Ryan jumped when warm liquid hit his chest. "What-?"

"Shh, just relax." Covering the mouth of the bottle with his thumb, Miguel let the tequila drip down Ryan's body. He dipped his head, licking it from the hollow of Ryan's neck, sucking until there was nothing but the faintest trace on Ryan's skin. 

Miguel moved lower, down to Ryan's chest. He poured a few more drops on Ryan's nipple, and licked and sucked until the small nub became hard against his tongue. He moved to the other side, repeating his actions with excruciating slowness. 

Ryan was moaning, blocking the sounds with a hand over his mouth. His other hand moved down his body, fingers closing around his dick. He whined when Miguel stopped him.

"Wait, baby. It'll be so much better; I promise." Miguel looked up from under his eye lashed, and their eyes met.

Ryan saw so much there. Lust was present, but the need was what came through loud and clear, a need to give Ryan something, and Ryan couldn't find a reason why he should stop Miguel. He tried with a weak, "The hacks..."

"They're too busy.... Trust me," Miguel whispered.

Ryan closed his eyes, and nodded, before moving his hand away from his cock, and reached for Miguel. From Miguel's nape, down his shoulder, and over his arms, Ryan's hand traced every curve of Miguel's body, focusing on Miguel instead of his own needs.

His heart sped up when Miguel began drinking tequila from his belly button, sucking the liquor before his tongue swept inside, licking every trace. Ryan cupped the back of Miguel's head, trying to keep him there to no avail.

Then a narrow streak hit his thigh, slowly traveling down, but Miguel licked them before it could stain the sheets. Before Ryan could catch his breath, Miguel was doing it again, licking the inside of his other thigh. "Alvarez..."

"Almost there, baby."

Jolts of pleasure exploded inside him as Miguel lapped at his balls, licking for tequila that was long gone. Ryan couldn't take his eyes off from Miguel's face, from the lust in those dark eyes. Then... oh god... flat tongue pressing against the underside of his cock, and he had to stuff a fist inside his mouth to stop himself from yelling.

Strong hands pinned his hips down, and he briefly wondered where the bottle had gone, but it didn't matter. The only thing that matter was Miguel's mouth, hot and wet, closing around the head of his cock, sliding down his dick. 

This was different than Shannon (and Ryan wasn't even going to think about Howell, that cow couldn't suck cock if her life depended on it). Miguel wasn't playing or teasing. He was bobbing his head, sucking his cock like it was one of those damn lollipops he loved to have in his mouth. 

He wanted to move, thrust into that wonderful hit, but Miguel kept him pinned down. A part of him told him he should resent this show of force, but another part, a bigger part couldn't find a way to let the words out, couldn't do anything but surrender to a pleasure he hadn't felt in years. 

And then, he was coming, spilling in Miguel's mouth, and fuck... he'd be coming again if he could, because Miguel 'I don't suck dick' Alvarez was swallowing his come, licking him clean. Before he could say anything, Miguel was kissing him, and Ryan could taste himself on Miguel's tongue, and it was so fucking wrong, and yet so right.

Miguel thrust against his hip, and Ryan could feel the hardness beneath the thin fabric of Miguel's boxers. This wouldn't do, not by a long shot. Still panting, Ryan rolled Miguel off. He slid off the boxers, and he could feel Miguel's eyes on him.

He slid his hands over Miguel's thighs, slowly moving up, until he was cupping Miguel's balls with a hand. His other hand closed around Miguel's cock. Miguel lay there, watching without saying a word. Ah! It was someone else's turn to be speechless.

Ryan leaned down, but a hand on his shoulder stopped him. "You don't have to, baby."

Ryan just glared at Miguel, before his lips bumped against Miguel's cock. Fuck, he might not have ever done it; he might not even have wanted to do it before, but he wanted to know why Miguel had done it. That didn't erase his worries, not completely, but then Miguel moaned, making throaty sounds that Ryan had never heard before, and he sucked harder, his lips sliding down the erect member.

He wasn't about to put the entire thing in his mouth; he wasn't that stupid, but Miguel didn't seem to mind. He kept his hand at the base of the cock, sliding and squeezing just like he enjoyed when jerking off. His tongue moved over the head, tasting the drops of precome. Weird, yes, but not enough to make him stop, not when Miguel was fisting the sheets like he was about to die of lust. 

Miguel's breathing became heavier. A hand rested gently on Ryan's shoulder, pulling him away, but he refused to move. Hot come hit his mouth, and Ryan drew back, his hand milking Miguel's cock.

When Miguel stilled, Ryan cleaned his hand on the boxers. "That tastes... arghhh."

Miguel laughed breathlessly. "Come here, let me see how it tastes." He grabbed Ryan's arm, and pulled him down. Ryan went along until he was half lying on top of Miguel, a hand resting on Miguel's face. "Celebrating wasn't a bad idea."

"It was a fucking good idea, O'Reily," Miguel answered in a whisper before pressing his lips against Ryan's. Miguel rested his forehead against Ryan's. "We have to get dressed soon."

"I know."

"I like you naked."

Ryan thought about it for a moment. "I like you naked, too. We still need to get dressed."

"Get me some clothes while you're getting down," Miguel said with a grin.

"Who said I was going down, Alvarez?"

"Well... I am a guest in your bed, least you could do."

Ryan chuckled. "You're a lazy bastard, that's what you are." But he went down, and found their sweats. Boxers and shirts wouldn't be enough to keep the hacks away, but sweats had done the trick in the past; Ryan hoped their luck would continue tonight.

**Prompt 083. And: 12:12 am ******

Armstrong swirled his chair around. "And that doesn't count," he said when he saw the look in Mineo's face.

"What do you mean it doesn't count? Dicks, mouths, it's sex," Mineo rebutted.

"Not according to President Clinton, remember?" Armstrong said with a grin. "Sorry, but the bet is fucking, and they didn't fuck."

"You know what I think?" Mineo asked, tapping his finger on the console. "I think those motherfuckers know about the bet, know that we won't stop them until they fuck, and that's why they aren't doing, laughing at us while they suck each other off."

Armstrong laughed. "I doubt anyone told them, but then... it's O'Reily, anything is possible with him."

"And that's why I should win the bet."

Armstrong shook his head. "Sorry, pal, but you didn't, although I wish you did. I've watched more gay porn looking at Mr. I'm Straight O'Reily than in my entire life."

"And that's McManus's fault. Not stopping them... tsk, it's insane." Mineo sighed. "God knows how long this is going to last."

* * *

**Part 35 - Let It Snow**

**Prompt 067. Snow: 7:00 am.**

Claire cursed under her breath when she heard the news on the radio. After the night shift she was looking forward to going home and spending some time with her daughter. Now they were all snowed in, meaning they'd have to pull a double shift to make up for the people who couldn't make it in. 

Of course, it meant that Oz would be guarded by the skeleton night crew, made up by people who were ready to fall asleep, instead of its full and wide-awake staff.

Claire sighed. They would have to pay close attention today or someone would end up dead.

**Prompt 082. If: 7:46 am**

Querns sat as the head of the table, looking at his staff. The only reason he was here, it was because he had never managed to leave the night before, after the main furnace had broken down. He was now damning all the gods. "So, how bad are things?"

"Bad," Howell said. "We have less than three forth of the normal staff, and most of the C.O.s are from the night shift. Things are bound to get jumpy."

"Add to that, the fact that this place is a fucking freezer..." McManus shook his head. "Things are going to explode."

"We should consider a lock down," Murphy added.

"They haven't done anything," Father Ray said. "It's not fair to punish them because the heating system isn't working."

"No, but the risks of having them walking around with less than a few staff could create serious problems," Querns pointed out. "All right, let's keep an eye on the situation and if things get worse, we go into lock down. Hopefully they'll manage to send someone to fix the furnace."

Claire snorted. With that snow, they had a better chance to see all the inmates turn into saints than a repairman come to Oz. No matter what, today was not going to be a happy day for anyone.

**Prompt 048. Diamond: 10:14**

Sean knocked before entering Tim's office. "I have a whole ten minutes for my break. Do you mind if I crash here? It'd take me almost as long to get to the lounge and come back."

"Sure, sit down. You look like shit, Sean," McManus commented.

"I feel like shit. I need a shower and sleep, and possibly another jacket, but I ain't getting any of them." Sean rubbed his face. "I'd settle for staying awake before I get shanked."

"Are you sure we shouldn't lock down the jail?"

"It's becoming a necessity. I spoke with Howell, things aren't much better in Unit B. The only place were things are quiet is Ad Seg." Sean leaned forward, frowning. "Is that a ring box?"

Tim nodded. When he opened it, it revealed a gold ring with a solitaire on top. 

"You're going to ask Gloria to marry you?" Sean asked shocked.

"With my track record... I know, Sean, but I think... it's time, and we've been getting closer."

"Yeah...I'd better go." *Before I say something stupid*, Sean mentally added. He pressed against the armrests of his chair, and stood up. "Good luck with that." He hoped that Gloria said yes, or O'Reily was going to have one hell of a week, or month possibly.

**Prompt 085. She: 12:39 pm**

Miguel slapped Ryan's arm with the back of his hand, as he sat down next to him. "Did you hear the news?"

"They're fixing the heat?"

Miguel snorted. "Yeah, and I'm the Messiah. No, McManus asked Nathan to marry him."

Ryan moved the chair closer. "When did that happen?"

"This morning, some shit about doing here, because it's where their lives are. Sounds like usual McManus bullshit to me," Miguel commented.

Ryan rolled his eyes. "The guy is a prick, nothing else. He probably didn't have the balls to do it before, and popped the question before he could change his mind.... So what did she says?"

"I heard her talk to Sister Pete. She said she didn't give him an answer yet, needed time to think with everything that's happened," Miguel finished.

"And here he comes." Ryan slouched down on the chair, when he saw McManus cross Em City. "Wanna bet I end up in the hole today."

Miguel chuckled. "I don't make sucker bets. Hiding in our pod seems smarter if you want to sleep in your bed tonight."

"Yeah." Ryan waited until McManus was in his office, and made a run for his pod. Better safe than sorry.

**Prompt 061. Winter: 1:59 pm**

Mineo rubbed his hands together, blowing warm air on them. "Why haven't we locked them up yet? Every other unit has."

Murphy shrugged. "Almost everyone is in his pod anyway. No point in upsetting the momentary peace."

"Yeah, they are in their pods, with their many layers of clothes and blankets, and we're here still freezing our asses off."

"Go complain to the Warden," Murphy suggested with a grin. "I'm sure he'll be thrilled to discuss this with you since at the moment, he's stuck here, just like us."

"I still think we should lock them up," Mineo repeated.

"And then what? Leave Em City unguarded and go get some coffee?" Murphy shook his head. "You'd better resign yourself. You stuck here like all of us."

**Prompt 040. Sight: 2:35 pm**

"I swear Mineo was just watching us kiss," Ryan said, leaning against the glass wall.

"C'mon, you're paranoid, O'Reily. They would have stopped us."

Ryan shook his head. "No, it's been a few days, I see them watching us. Two nights ago, Armstrong smirked when I got into your bed, but didn't say anything. Things are weird, I'm telling you."

Miguel went to the glass, and wrapped his arms around Ryan's waist. "So what are you thinking?"

"It's gotta be McManus." Ryan shook his head. "I still don't understand why. I'm gonna have to speak to Murphy and see if he'll tell me anything."

"I'm sure you'll figure it out." Miguel nodded toward downstairs, where Gloria had just arrived. "Looks like Nathan made her decision."

"Should we go and ask her?" Ryan said with a grin.

"Only if you want McManus to kill you. C'mon, let's get under those blankets, it's fucking freezing here."

**Prompt 086. Choices: 2:51 pm**

"Look, they're coming out of McManus's office." Ryan scrambled from under the blanket, and took his place at the glass wall. "He's smiling."

"Oh hell, she's kissing him. That's just not fair, kissing her right here. Bastard," Miguel commented, "like we can get any women in here."

"McManus isn't that fucking smart, no matter what he thinks." Ryan walked back to Miguel's bed. "At least I won't have to avoid him."

Miguel slipped in, next to Ryan, securing the blankets around their bodies. "Are you okay with this?"

Ryan laughed mirthlessly. "Does it matter? I was never gonna be with her, no matter how close we got. She wouldn't, y'know? She's probably right, it's not like we could go out and pick the china and all that crap. I can tell you something, he hurts her, and he's gonna die."

Miguel didn't doubt for a moment that Ryan meant it. "She's a strong woman; just look what she's been through. You interfere, and you're gonna piss her off."

"I'll think about it," Ryan said with a sigh.

"Good, but for the moment, I'll give you something else to think about," Miguel murmured in Ryan's ear, while his hand found its way to Ryan's cock. 

**Prompt 003. Ends: 4:19 pm**

Claire walked into Em City, and went straight to the officer station. "The snow finally stopped. Warden said that the gas company is sending a guy over. We should have heat in a few hours."

"Thank god, I was fucking freezing here," Mineo complained.

"How unfair! In Unit B, it was so hot that I was getting a tan in my bikini," Claire said sarcastically. 

"You didn't come to tell us that," Murphy said. "There's bad news, isn't there?"

"There always is. Warden isn't paying overtime to two different shifts, so... we're stuck doing our regular night shift."

"Someone better get me coffee, or I'm gonna drop right here," Murphy commented.

"Warden wants you to lock down early. In Unit B, we've been taking turns napping. I'll send someone over so you two can get some rest. Shouldn't be too bad with everyone in their cell."

Murphy nodded, and added a heartfelt, "Thank you."

Claire grinned. "It's my good deed for the year. See you later, guys."

* * *

**Part 36 - Prompt 051. Water: Shower**

"You know how you think the hacks are watching us for some reason?" Miguel asked a few days later, while there were sitting outside their pods, overlooking Em City.

"Yeah?" Ryan replied without taking his eyes off his magazine.

"I think you're right."

"I'm always right, Alvarez."

Miguel chuckled. "And modest too, but I'm serious."

"So am I," Ryan answered. "I still don't know why, though. I asked Murphy and he said I have too much time on my hands and I'm starting to see things." He finally put down the magazine. "He was fucking lying, and he's never lied to me."

"Wanna fuck with them?" Miguel asked wickedly.

One look at Miguel, and Ryan knew that this was going to be extremely entertaining or it would get both of them in the hole. "What the hell...it's been a while since I've seen the hole," he finally said. "So what do we do?"

"Trust me." Miguel got up and went to their pod, coming back up with toiletries and towels. "We're gonna take a shower."

"You know something, bro?" Ryan said, already moving. "You're becoming a manipulative turd."

"I'm learning from the master, baby." 

They went straight for the shower. They undressed quickly, and rested the towels on the wall. Miguel opened the water, and stayed under the spray, turning his head toward Ryan. "Let me know when the hacks come around."

Ryan took a quick look toward the glass, before opening the water. "Mineo is already out there."

"Good."

"Do you have a plan, or are we just getting clean for the second time today?" Ryan asked, pushing the water away from his face.

"Just watch." Miguel grabbed his soap, and began to rub it over his chest, his hand following it, massaging into his skin. Slow, strokes over his nipple, and down his stomach.

"Are you developing exhibitionistic tendencies, Alvarez?"

"Stop thinking... wait, don't. Think of my hands on you, baby. C'mon on, slide your hand over your body, think that it's mine, touching you, pinching your nipples, just like you like it."

Ryan's eyes went to the glass for a moment. "We have an audience, even Howell is there."

"Don't look at them. Look at me, baby. Look, I'm doing the same, thinking of you." The soap glided over Miguel's balls and cock, before Miguel took his cock in his hand. "I can feel you pump my dick, squeezing just right."

"You're crazy," Ryan said breathlessly.

"I know... touch yourself, baby... that's it..." Miguel licked his lips. "I can taste you; do you know how much I want to suck you off?"

Ryan groaned, but he finally succumbed. He rested a hand on the wall, while the warm water caressed his body. He closed his eyes, but careful to listen for any sound, any sign that someone else was coming in. His hand closed around his cock, moving in time with Miguel. "Talk to me, Alvarez."

"Wanna know what I'd do to you, baby? I want you in bed, all naked like you're now. I start kissing you until you can't breath anymore, and my hands move over your body, playing with your nipples, moving over your stomach, down your legs."

Ryan laughed breathlessly. "That's 'cause you're a bastard, and you know that's not where I want your hand."

Miguel turned toward Ryan, his hand still moving over his hard cock. "Is this where you want it? You want me to jerk you off?"

Ryan turned his head, and forced himself to look at Miguel. His muscles glistened from the water, his cock looked angry and red, standing from the black thatch of hair, and when the hell had Ryan started enjoying watching a man? But he didn't care, not with his own cock throbbing in his hand. "I want your hand on my cock, and mine on yours."

"Oh yeah, baby... I like that, but not this time... I'm gonna take your cock in my mouth, suck you until you want to scream... think I don't see you? Stuffing your mouth with your fist so the hacks don't hear you, but I keep sucking." Miguel rested his forehead against the tiles, closing his own eyes. "Oh god, baby... I'm so close."

Ryan looked on, as Miguel's dick disappeared in his fist, faster and faster, until white streaks covered the tiles, the remains quickly washed away from the water. Miguel's eyes were on him again, and Ryan pumped quicker, refusing to look away, until every sensation pooled down in his stomach, and exploded as he came.

Only then, he turned his head again, washing away all the trace of this impromptu jerk off section. Miguel finished first. He turned off the water, and grabbed his towel. "Ready?"

"I'm not moving from here until they drag me out," Ryan answered lazily. 

"'Kay." Miguel trounced out of the shower, towel riding low on his hips. Instead of going to his pod, he went to the hacks, and smiled satisfied. "You're missing the popcorn, but I'm happy you've enjoyed the show."

"Somebody enjoyed the show," Howell said with a snort, nodding her head toward Ryan.

"He ain't the only one," Miguel replied with a grin. "I didn't see any of you doing nothing more than watching." He winked and walked away. He had no idea what was going, he'd leave that for Ryan to figure out, but in the mean time he planned to enjoy every fucking moment.

* * *

**Part 37 - Information**

Prompt 021. Friends: 9:04

"You and Alvarez..." Beecher said as he sat next to Ryan.

"Me and Alvarez, what?" Ryan asked calmly.

Toby rolled his eyes. "Come on, O'Reily, you two are practically on top of each other, day and night."

"I've always been on top of people, it don't mean anything. If I remember correctly, we were pretty close," Ryan answered. 

"We weren't fucking," Toby pointed out.

"Neither are me and Alvarez," Ryan finished, annoyed. People still couldn't mind their own fucking business. Even if he did like Beecher, some things were better left unsaid.

"We didn't kiss or... do anything else," Toby said with a grin.

Ryan cracked a smile. "True, but then you had a psychotic boyfriend who had a tendency of getting people killed."

Toby took a deep breath. "We didn't kiss even before Chris came along."

"I meant Schillinger, but then I can see how the statement applies to both of them." Ryan leaned forward. "What is it you want, Beecher?"

"I... I wanted you to know that I'm happy for you... I mean if you're happy, of course."

"I'm thrilled, ecstatic, on top of the world. Everyone in this fucking place seems to have taken an interest in my imaginary sex life, even the fucking hacks. See thrilled."

"And that's the problem. People thought you'd be happy, but you've been moodier than my wife when she was pregnant." Beecher moved even closer, and whispered, "Sister Pete wants you back in group."

"Have you heard anything else? Like why the fuck they keep watching me?" 

Toby shook his head. "Sorry, but I'll let you know if I hear anything."

"I bet this is McManus's doing, but..." Ryan patted Toby's knee. "Thanks, man."

**Prompt 019. White: 10:40**

The hustle and bustle of the kitchen covered most of the conversations among the inmates. A black kid pushed the bucket and mop to a side, and approached Ryan. "I need more tits, man."

Ryan snorted. "You haven't paid me for the last one, Jackson. Pay up first, and then you get more."

Jackson looked around and then whispered, "I have information you want."

Ryan laughed. "Right, you have information, and I'm getting paroled next week. Get the fuck away, Jackson," he finished annoyed.

"It's about you and the hacks..." The kid looked expectantly at Ryan.

"Spill it, and if it's worth it, you'll get your tits."

Another furtive look around. "There is a bet among the hacks, when you and Alvarez are gonna fuck."

Ryan grabbed the kid's shirt and pushed him against the oven. "You're a fucking liar."

"No, no, man, I ain't lying to you. I heard it while washing the floors by the hacks' locker room," he said quickly. "I swear, and it's the second one. Murphy won the first, 'cause you ain't fucking yet. I don't know no more, I swear."

Ryan let Jackson go. He made sure that none of the hacks were paying attention, before grabbing a bag from his jeans pocket. "Get the fuck out of here now."

"Yeah, thanks, man," Jackson replied, greedily grabbing the little bag of white powder. He never noticed the murderous look on Ryan's face.

**Prompt 069. Thunder: 6:33**

Miguel stood in a corner of their pod. He had thought that things were going well with Ryan, both on the business and private side, but then all of a sudden, O'Reily had turned into a moody bitch. It wasn't a noticeable change, but slowly, since the beginning of the month, Ryan's moods had gotten worse. 

At first, Miguel thought it was about Nathan's recent engagement, but it didn't sound right; the timing was off. No, he still was trying to understand what had happened, and the only thing he could do was ride this out. After all, he'd gone through so many ups and downs since getting into Oz that this was only another change.

"I'm going to fucking make them pay," Ryan said as he paced inside his pod.

With a sigh, Miguel sat on his bed. "You've said that... about a fucking million times already. Chill out, bro."

"Do you understand what I said? They are betting on when we fuck..." Ryan threw his hands in the air. "Is this sinking in?"

"Yeah, man, it's sinkin' in. They are betting on when you're gonna have my ass, 'cause that's what we're talkin' about, right?" Miguel's voice was as cold as the ice. "I don't see why you're worrin'. I should be the one caring, but I ain't going crazy, am I?" When Ryan stopped moving, and looked at him, Miguel cracked a lopsided smile. "What? You're surprised? What else would they be thinking? On one hand, there is Mr. Straight Guy, and then there's me, who was getting it on with Torquemada, a man who thought make-up was as necessary as a shank. So what the fuck are you complaining about, O'Reily?"

Ryan was at a loss of words, for once. "I wasn't thinkin' about... the practical part, y'know? I was trying not to think about it, period."

Miguel sighed. "Yeah, I know, baby, and you don't gotta think about it now. Let them bet all they want. It doesn't have to mean shit. Come here." He reached out, and grabbed Ryan's hand, pulling him gently toward the bed. "C'mon, just get into this fucking bed."

"This isn't over," Ryan said as he crawled into the bed, and lay down.

"Why? Do you want to fuck me?"

"NO!"

"Then why the fuck do you care?" Miguel asked, taking Ryan in his arms.

"Because I want them to leave me the fuck alone. They watch us piss, they watch us shit, they watch us shower, eat, sleep, jerk off," Ryan said, frustration ringing clear in his voice. "They shouldn't get involved with... first with Gloria, now this... it's none of their fucking business."

"They'd say otherwise, but it doesn't matter. They'll do what they want, and we'll do what we want, and fuck their stupid bets. 'Sides, the longer they have this bet going, the longer we get to do what we want without them bothering us... things like this." Grinning, Miguel pushed his hand under Ryan's waistband, and reached for Ryan's cock.

Ryan grabbed Miguel's wrist and pulled his hand out. "Maybe later."

"Fine," Miguel said, pulling away. "Have it your way, O'Reily." Tonight was not going to be a fun night.

* * *

**Part 38 - Prompt 047. Heart: Valentine's Day**

Valentine's Day was an unhappy day for many. Wives and girlfriends tended to disappear with time. Miguel and Ryan had lost long ago any hope for a romantic encounter. Instead, they spent the day sitting around a table, on the main floor of Em City, with a box of chocolate sitting in front of them. 

"Man, I love your mother," Miguel commented as he reached into the box again. "She's spoiling you rotten."

Ryan took another chocolate, and popped it into his mouth. "And you're eating all the fucking chocolate," he commented, still chewing.

"Hey."

Ryan turned when he felt a hand on his shoulder. "Beecher, sit down, and join us. Chocolate, cherries and liquor, Ma knows how to pick her gifts."

Toby looked at the almost empty box, and grinned. "You'll be hyper all night long." He picked a chocolate. "I'll have to do this sacrifice and eat some so you won't get sick."

"Don't bullshit a bullshitter, Law-Boy," Ryan answered, chuckled.

"'Sides, we got four more boxes upstairs," Miguel said smiling.

"God, you'll be high on chocolate." Toby picked another chocolate. "Then, I need to eat more... still sacrificing myself."

Ryan moved the chair closer to Miguel. "Since when do *we* have four boxes? They're mine."

"C'mon, O'Reily. You know your mother meant them for both of us," Miguel said, throwing a crumpled wrapper.

"Oh look, the happy couple is fighting," one of the Homeboys commented with a snort.

Miguel was quick to grab Ryan's arm before he could get up. "You hit him, you end up in the hole, or worse. McManus has been threatening to send you to Gen Pop for months. C'mon, O'Reily, use that brain you have."

Toby patted Ryan's back. "Let's go to your pod. It's my duty to confiscate a box or two."

Ryan snorted. "And that should convince me to move from here?" He looked between Miguel and Toby, and sighed. "All right, let's go before I really kill someone."

Miguel followed him up the stairs. They were passing the hacks station when Mineo grinned at them. "Spending some quality time together?" the C.O. asked with a grin.

Miguel felt Ryan tense in front of him. He practically pushed the Irishman up the stairs. "Keep walking, baby," he whispered.

Ryan glared at Mineo, and then looked at Miguel. He ground his teeth, standing with a foot on the step, but then turned and went up. Miguel let out a sigh of relief, but then he saw McManus and Murphy come out of McManus's office, heading for the stairs. Hopefully, they could get to their pod before a new problem arose.

Unfortunately, Murphy didn't know better. Instead, he grinned at them. "How's it going, guys?"

Ryan stopped right in front of Murphy. "Why the fuck do you care? Afraid you're gonna lose your fuckin' bet?" He went to the railing, grabbing the bar. "Fucktarts, if you want to know," he yelled, getting everyone's attention, "we're not fucking, but if you still have doubts, the hacks are betting. Mineo will be happy to take your money."

"O'Reily, settled down," McManus warned.

"Fuck you, too, McManus."

Before Ryan could do more damage, Miguel stepped in front of him, and grinned at McManus "We're just following the rules, y'know? With the no fucking thing."

"And now, we're gonna play cards," Toby added, stepping next to Miguel, practically blocking Ryan's way. "Right, O'Reily?" he asked with a glance to Ryan.

"What the fuck ever." Ryan went straight for his pod, banging the door on his way in.

Murphy watched him go, shaking his head. "I don't know what the fuck is going on, Tim?"

"O'Reily is being his usual charming self," McManus answered.

Murphy shook his head. "No, there's more. O'Reily doesn't go off like that. He plans, and plots, but doesn't react like he just did, and Alvarez has been watching him like a hawk. Something is going on, Tim, and I have no clue what it is."

"I don't care what it is. Something happens, and he's out of here, and for good this time," McManus commented before heading down to the exit.

* * *

**Part 39 - Compromises**

**Prompt 079. When?: February 16**

Miguel returned from his shift to the infirmary, and went straight to his pod. When he saw no sign of Ryan, he went back down. He looked around, but Ryan was nowhere in sight.

"Hey, Beecher." Miguel approached the other inmate. "Have you seen O'Reily?"

"Armstrong took him to the hole about ten minutes ago." Beecher got closer. "What the fuck is going on with him? McManus was talking about sending him to Gen Pop when he's out."

"The hell he is," Miguel spat out. "Look, I gotta go, but thanks...." He looked around again. "Hey, Murphy, where's McManus? I gotta talk to him."

"Do you think I'm your social calendar, Alvarez? You can wait until he comes back."

Miguel ran up the stairs, and stood in front of Murphy. "This can't wait. I need to see him now." He took another step forward, and dropped his voice, yet he didn't mask his anger. "I need to get O'Reily out of the hole, because I know what it means to go fucking crazy because you're alone and have shit to do but think. He can't stay in there, not today, and you gotta help me find McManus."

"What's this about, Alvarez? If you know something..."

"Take me to McManus, and you'll find out what I know," Miguel spat out.

Murphy sighed. "The shit I do for you people. Okay... let's go."

Miguel followed the hack out of Em City. It soon became clear where they were heading. At least, he could try and get Sister Pete's support on this, but at this point, he was unwilling to rely on anyone.

When they arrived, the door to Sister Pete's office was ajar. Miguel could see McManus laugh at something that Sister Pete had said. Well, neither would be laughing if he had any say in the matter.

Murphy knocked on the door, before opening the door completely. "Tim, Alvarez needs to see you."

McManus turned around, his brows together in a frown. "Is everything okay, Miguel?"

"Wait, let me think. Oh yeah, I usually come to have a friendly chitchat with you," Miguel said sarcastically as he strolled into the office. "No, man, it's not okay; it's so fucking not okay that you wouldn't believe."

McManus leaned back against his chair, looking uninterested. "Are you gonna tell me or are you planning to play twenty questions? 'Cause I really don't have time for your bullshit, Miguel."

"God forbid, you have time for your fuckin' job. No, you're too busy flirting with your woman, and you know what? I don't resent that, she's one fine lady, but if you could spare a few minutes, I need to talk to you about O'Reily, and when you're getting him out of the hole."

"How about we don't need to discuss it and in a week," McManus answered without missing a beat.

"Wrong, hermano, 'cause you need to get him out and today. He's gonna go fuckin' nuts if you leave in there, and I know."

McManus rolled his eyes. "Very nice, very dramatic, I bet you and O'Reily can both get nominations for the Oscars, but we both know it's crap. It's not the first time, and it won't be the last that he ends up there."

Miguel threw his arms in the air, shaking his head. "Do you even know what today is? Is this ... like... your job... to know things about the people stuck in this hellhole?" He leaned in, resting his hands on McManus's chair. "It's February 16th, a year ago exactly Cyril O'Reily was executed, but what the fuck do you care, right? It's not like O'Reily could actually feel anything. He's just an animal to keep trapped in Oz."

"I'm sorry, Tim; I didn't..." Sister Pete trailed off.

Miguel stood up and turned to her, pointing at her. "I told you he needed to talk to someone, asked you to find a way to get him in here."

"You didn't tell me-"

"What? I didn't tell you why? Isn't that your job? Or maybe you do your job only for people you like. I bet if it were Beecher you'd know, you'd remember, you'd want to talk to him about Keller." Miguel returned his attention to McManus. "He's already on edge, don't fucking make him go insane, McManus."

"I can't, Miguel. I can't bring him back without losing the respect of the other inmates."

Miguel snorted. "Yeah? You can tell them they get a 'get out of the hole for free' card when their brothers get executed. I don't care what you do, McManus, but find a way, 'cause no one wants a crazy O'Reily in this place, not if you care about keepin' people alive." He walked out, but stopped when he reached the door. "Find a way and soon." He left without waiting for an answer.

**Prompt 005. Outsides: Leaving the Hole**

"He's right, you know?" Murphy said as they walked toward Ad Seg. "There was something wrong, I could tell, but I didn't think..."

"Yeah, I know, Sean, and maybe he's right about me being blind because it was O'Reily. We'd have paid attention if it were Beecher or even Alvarez."

"Or just about anyone else but O'Reily," Murphy added with a small smile.

"Yeah, probably. So... how do I get him out without losing face with everyone in Em City?"

"I don't know... lock him in his pod or something... I bet Alvarez won't leave him alone for a second," Sean suggested.

"That's supposed to be punishment?" Tim laughed mirthlessly. "God, O'Reily is going to drive me insane, I swear. I guess I'll play it by ear." He motioned to the guard to open the door, and walked into the bare cell. 

O'Reily was currently lying in a fetal position in a corner, but the moment he heard the noise he jumped up. "What do you want, McManus?"

"Here's the deal, O'Reily. You come back to Em City, today. You're to stay in your pod for the next month. You come out to eat and to shower. You will see Sister Pete every day for an hour until she makes other arrangements for you. If Sister Pete says it's okay, you'll get to see your mother."

"Yeah? What if I don't do what you say?"

"Then you and Alvarez will both end up here, and after that you go to Gen Pop."

"What does Alvarez have to do with this?" Ryan asked with a frown.

"You have to thank him for getting you out of here. Do we have a deal?"

Ryan waited a moment, and then nodded. "We have a deal."

"Good." Tim picked up Ryan's clothes from the C.O. on duty, and handed them to Ryan. When Ryan reached for them, Tim didn't let go. "I *am* sorry for what happened with your brother."

"Right." Ryan started to get dressed as he spoke. "You hated him as much as you hate me."

"Maybe, but I still don't think he was treated fairly." He put a hand on Ryan's back. "C'mon, let's go."

Ryan zipped his jacket and pulled up his hood, before following McManus back to Em City. He ignored Murphy walking behind him, just like he ignored the stares and silence that accompanied his return to cellblock five. 

He went upstairs without answering the many questions thrown at him. When he reached upstairs, he saw Miguel standing in front of the pod. He stopped for a moment, before closing the gap, his fingers fisting the front of Miguel's shirt. 

Miguel rested his hands on Ryan's hips, and smiled. "Welcome back."

"Thank you... for getting me out," he whispered.

"You got my back, and I got yours. That's how it works, right?"

Ryan nodded, and he wanted to say more, explain just how much this meant. When he couldn't, he did the only thing possible: he pulled Miguel from his shirt, and kissed him. He didn't give a shit who was watching, what they were saying. They could all go fuck themselves, because that's what Ryan needed to do.

"O'Reily, get your ass inside your pod," McManus yelled.

With a sigh, Ryan pulled back. Fighting would only mean going back to the hole.

Miguel pulled on his jacket. "C'mon, let's get inside. We'll be more comfortable anyways."

Ryan followed without complaining. Just for today, he could stop thinking, and follow Miguel's lead.

* * *

**Part 40 - Prompt 030. Death: No Future**

Ryan arrived for his first session with Sister Pete as soon as Miguel left for the infirmary. Somehow he didn't think that the scheduling had been random, because since returning from the hole, he'd always had someone around. He guessed the hacks thought he was gonna off himself. Bunch of idiots, but then he could use this new development, even he didn't know how, just yet.

"Hello, Ryan," Sister Pete greeted him. "How are you today?"

Ryan mentally snorted. Right, like she could bullshit him. He sat down and grinned. "Oh, I'm fine, splendid. I'm all cured. Now can I go?"

Sister Pete shrugged, and sat down. "If that's what you want... however, you will be in your pod for a whole month. Coming to see me might be your only way out of your pod, if only briefly."

Fuck, he hadn't thought of that. Last night, he was fine with being stuck in his pod, but it really wasn't good for business. This would allow him some movement. Not perfect, but usable. "All right, Sister, I'm staying."

"I'm so glad you reconsidered," she said with an amused smile. "So maybe we can try again. How are you?"

Ryan shrugged. "Usual crap, y'know?"

"Miguel told me... no, he yelled more accurately that I didn't know, so maybe you can help me."

Ryan grinned. "The son of bitch... he didn't tell me about that."

"Did he tell you he yelled at Tim, too? I bet you'd have loved to see that," she added, her smile getting bigger.

"Damn, I miss all the fun...." Ryan leaned back, stretching his legs in front of him. "So he was here...."

Sister Pete rested her elbows on her desk, and steppled her fingers together. "Yes, he was. He was trying to help you. He's been doing that a lot..."

"Hey, if you're insinuating-"

"No, I'm not. I'm just stating a fact." She cocked her head, studying Ryan in silence. "Why does the fact that people might think you and Miguel are in relationship bother you so much?"

"Are you shitting me, Sister? This is Oz. Alliances make you strong, keep you alive, but relationships make you weak."

"Really? Because it seems to me that Miguel is doing so much better since he moved into your pod. He's clean, his depression has disappeared, he comes to group meetings. And you... you wouldn't be here if it weren't for Miguel."

"That ain't a relationship. You help each other, watch each other's back. That's all."

"How do you help each other?"

Ryan ran his fingers through his hair. It was growing again, he hadn't let it grow since Cyril's execution. He could still remember when they razed Cyril's hair... No, he wasn't going to think about that, not now.

"Ryan?" Sister Pete called out gently.

"Yeah... sorry, I was thinking... help, I don't know, the nightmares mostly." And the tits and alcohol business, but that wasn't really her business.

"Whose? Who has nightmares, Ryan?"

"Who doesn't, Sister? Me, Alvarez, Beecher, everyone in Oz... Cyril... I kept dreaming about him, about the execution, I could imagine what he went through...." Ryan stood up, and began pacing. "They were gone, the nightmares, I mean. For a while, I thought... I thought it was over, but they started again. The closer we got to... They just started again."

"What made them stop in the first place?"

"Alvarez," Ryan answered with a smile, remembering that night on the Day of the Dead. It seemed so far away now.

"Do I even want to ask?" she asked grinning.

Ryan laughed. "You have one dirty mind, Sister," he said as he sat back down. "He told me that Cyril was in heaven, and he knew how much I loved him... Thing is, I know Cyril was no saint, but he shouldn't have died, y'know? Maybe if I had agreed with McManus, sent him to that loony hospital, he'd still be alive."

"You don't know that, Ryan. Your brother loved you so much, I don't think he would have been able to cope without you..."

"Yeah, and look how great it worked out for him." Ryan pinched the bridge of his nose. "Talkin' won't change what happened."

"No, it won't, but talking to Miguel obviously helped you once."

"So you're saying I should talk to Alvarez again," he teased her with a grin.

"Why don't you talk to me for now? You don't want me to be jealous of Miguel now, do you?" She extended a hand, reaching for Ryan's. "Why did they come back? Do you know?"

"I... I started to feel trapped, y'know? Everyone was watching me and Alvarez, and I don't mean just watchin', that's normal in Oz, but no, they were watching us, like we were some kind of freaky show, my dad would agree with them, and I started thinking about my dad, and all the shit he used to say..." Ryan pushed the chair back, and walked to the door. "I gotta go."

Sister Pete quickly reached him, and closed her fingers around his arms. "What did he say, Ryan?"

"What didn't he say, Sister?" Ryan shook his head, biting his lip. "He knew I was no good, told me enough time. I was here just to make his life hell, and that I would fuck up, taking Cyril with me. He was right, wasn't he? I fucked up Gloria's life, and Cyril is dead, and I'm still here, and I'm gonna fuck Alvarez's life somehow, 'cause it's what I do."

"You're worried about Miguel?" she asked, still processing what she was hearing. She knew Ryan had felt guilty about Cyril, but she would have never imagined that he could worry about someone else.

"Shocking, eh?"

"Surprising, yes. Come on, sit down." She led him to the chair with a hand behind his back. Sister Pete leaned against the edge of the table. "Ryan, listen to me, regardless everything else you might have done, you have helped Miguel, and you can choose not to ruin his life. You can choose to help him like you have, you can choose to be his friend."

Ryan shook his head. "Come on, Sister, those are fairy tales. Did you tell those stories to Beecher?"

"You aren't Tobias, and Miguel isn't Keller. You haven't spent years trying to hurt each other. You and Miguel are on equal grounds, in a way that Tobias and Chris never were. This friendship is not a bad thing, not if you don't want it to be."

Ryan looked up from under his lashes. "What if it's more? What if it's..."

"Love?"

"Obsession, isn't that what Gloria called it?"

"I can't tell you what you feel, Ryan. You have to look inside yourself and find the answer there."

"And how do I know?"

She smiled, and took his hands in hers. "Ask yourself why you've been helping him? Are you doing it for yourself or for him?"

"It's not that simple, Sister."

"I know, but it's a first step," she said softly.

Ryan sighed. "I gotta go."

"Okay... I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Looks like my schedule for tomorrow morning is clear." 

Sister Pete watched him go, mentally going over everything they had discussed. Once again, Ryan had surprised her. Maybe it was time that she put all her preconceptions about the man aside, and got to know the Ryan Miguel seemed to know.

* * *

**Part 41 - Middlemen**

**Prompt 002. Middles: 9:32 am**

Liam Meaney was standing by the gate when Ryan arrived. It took just a few seconds for him to focus on business. "What's wrong?"

"We had some problems with two of the homeboys; they refused to pay, saying tits weren't good. All bullshit. We didn't mess with the tits you gave us."

Ryan stopped, and put his hands on Liam's chest. "Look, I got from this fucking gate to my pod to get my information. I don't want rambling; I want facts." He let go and resumed walking.

Liam scrambled after Ryan. "You know we don't have the man power. Alvarez stepped in, saying he was making sure business ran smoothly while you were in your pod. What do you want me to do about it?"

"Did you get the money?" Ryan asked.

"Yeah."

"Good, and you can trust Alvarez. I'll let him know what needs to be done; what he says goes until I'm out. If there is a problem, you can catch me in the morning or during meals."

"Look, Ryan, just 'cause you two are tight-"

Ryan grabbed his shirt and pushed him against the stairs. "I'm running a business, I've always done it well, and I'm gonna keep doin' it my way. You don't like it, too fucking bad."

"O'Reily, get your ass in your pod." 

Ryan turned his head, and glared at Murphy, but didn't complain. "You know what to do," he hissed before climbing the stairs and entering his pod.

**Prompt 015. Blue: 12:07 pm**

Ryan stood by the glass wall, observing everything that went down in Em City. Watching could be so useful, too many people didn't understand that, but Ryan knew how much body language could tell if someone paid attention.

He smiled when he saw Miguel coming up the stairs and entering their pod. "You missed lunch."

"Yeah, ate in the infirmary. Things were crazy there for a while. Niggers are trying to kill each other. Dumb fucks can't even do it right. Three of them ended up needing some patching up, and another two are in the hole." Miguel stood behind Ryan, wrapping his arm around the Irishman. He slipped his hand under Ryan's sweatshirt, until his hand was resting on Ryan's naked stomach. "What are we watching?"

"Everything," Ryan said without reacting to the touch. "Redding and Neema were arguing with the new guy, Jefferson. Bastard wants the Homeboys to unite and take over part of in the tits business, Redding and Neema both told him to fuck himself. They both want their boys to stay clean. Same shit with the Muslims."

Miguel chuckled. "And you learned all of that by watching?"

"That, and Beecher gave me the scoop during lunch. Son of a bitch always knows what's going on around here. No one pays attention to the lawyer with no alliances." Ryan shook his head. "Fucktards don't know how dangerous he is."

"We had a problem in Unit B," Miguel said, as he slipped his hand inside Ryan's pants.

Ryan smiled, but didn't move. "I heard."

Miguel leaned closer, his lips brushing against Ryan's ear as he spoke. "Shit, you hear a lot, staying in this pod."

Ryan turned his head, and stared at Miguel. "I do a lot more than hear things in this pod." 

"That you do, baby." Miguel captured Ryan's bottom lip with his teeth and tugged, gently, before sweeping his tongue over it. "What do you wanna do about it?"

"The hearing, the screwing or the problem?" Ryan asked with a grin.

"Business first, right?" Miguel answered with a matching grin.

Ryan shrugged, before looking out of their pod again. "You solved the problem from what I hear. I told Meaney to do what you say if he can't talk to me."

"Is Meaney gonna be a problem?"

Ryan shook his head. "No, he might bitch, but he knows better than to cross me. It's not healthy."

"And you trust me?"

Damn Alvarez for pushing the issue. He'd never trusted anyone but Cyril, and now, he found it all too easy to trust Alvarez. He hoped that it wouldn't blow up in face. "Yeah, I do."

"Okay." Miguel kissed Ryan's neck, before moving away. "I'm goin' to the gym, keep an eye on things. I'll see you later."

"You come here, give me blue balls and now leave? You're a fucking cocktease."

"Not a tease, baby. This..." Miguel faced Ryan, and pressed his body against Ryan's. "This was the preview. I plan to finish this the moment lights go out tonight."

"I'm stuck here for the next four hours. I can finish this off without you," Ryan let out in a casual tone.

Miguel rocked his hips, and was rewarded with a gasp from Ryan. "Yeah, but it's not as much fun."

Ryan pressed the heel of his hand against Miguel's cock, massaging it through the heavy denim. "Get the fuck out of here, Alvarez, or you're not leaving."

"Now who's being a being a tease? Later, baby." Miguel winked at Ryan, and stalked out of the pod.

Ryan smiled amused, before resuming his place against the glass. 

**Prompt 006. Hours: 10:00 pm**

"Lights out!" Mineo's voice came only a few instants before the lights were turned off, and darkness reigned over Em City.

Ryan didn't even pretend to be interested in sleep. Instead, he threw his clothes on the floor, before grabbing Miguel's shirt. "Get up!"

"What the fuck?" For a moment, Miguel was on alert, ready for anything, but then he saw that Ryan was very naked and very hard, and he grinned. "You only have to ask, baby."

"Shut up, Alvarez. Ten fucking hours I've been thinkin' about this, and you fuckin' know it, so don't bullshit me." He attacked Miguel's mouth, kissing and biting, while pushing him toward a corner. Taking clothes off and kissing wasn't an easy feat, but Ryan managed, releasing Miguel only long enough to pull his sweatshirt off.

He spit on his hand, before closing his fingers around Miguel's dick, pumping it until he felt it throb in his hand. "Get me off, or I swear, I'm gonna shank you."

Miguel brushed off the treat with a wicked smile, and then he was all over Ryan. His lips attached to Ryan's neck, his fingers around Ryan's cock, and when the hell did they spin around? Ryan had no idea, but they had had to, because he could feel the wall, rough against his back.

Ryan didn't care, nothing mattered except reaching his orgasm. His arm was wrapped around Miguel's neck, pulling him close, kissing him until he felt his lungs burn from the lack of oxygen. His other hand glided over Miguel's cock, pumping it hard and rough. His hips rocked without any rhythm, fucking that tight fist, driving closer and closer to that edge until his orgasm crashed through him, leaving him breathless and limp against the wall.

Miguel was still rocking against him, digging against Ryan's hand and hip, solid heat against his skin. Ryan felt teeth dig at the base of his neck, and god, he was going to have a mark in the morning, and then hot come stained his body, and he still didn't care. 

Fuck, he was so fucked.

"Should get you hot and bothered more often," Miguel drawled out.

"You didn't last longer than me," Ryan spat out with more vehemence that he had intended.

Miguel drew his head back. "We got a new problem?"

Ryan stared at the other man. Did they have a new problem? No, they had a lot of old problems, biggest of all that Ryan was not a faggot, but he decided not to bring that up. Ryan had also a pretty good idea that sooner or later new problems would pop up, because problems followed him no matter how fast he ran. "People die around me."

He could see the surprise in Miguel's face, but then Miguel grinned. "Good thing I have a tendency of not dying."

Ryan wished that he could brush it off so easily, but grinned too. "You also have a tendency of biting."

"You're gonna be stuck here anyways. That's just to give you somethin' else to think about, tomorrow." 

Ryan chuckled. "Dangerous game you're playing, Alvarez."

"The only type I like, baby." A last kiss, and then Miguel was pulling away. 

Ryan sighed, but got moving as well. He saw Miguel reach for sweats; well, that answered the question of where he'd be sleeping tonight. Ryan put on his own clothes, before lying down on Miguel's bed. Within minutes, Miguel was spooned against him, and when he fell asleep, the nightmares didn't come.

* * *

**Part 42 - Prompt 009. Months: Friendship**

A week later, Miguel strutted inside Sister Pete's office during his break. He nodded at Beecher.

"He's not coming until later," Beecher said as he went back to his computer.

"I know," Miguel said calmly, before sitting down. 

"What can I do for you, Miguel?" Sister Pete asked. 

"O'Reily-"

She shook her head. "I can't discuss him with you."

"Yeah, I know. That's not why I'm here, though. I wanna thank you. Whatever you're doin', it's helping. The nightmares are gone again."

Sister Pete cocked her head, with a questioning look on her face. Ryan hadn't said anything to her. "Has he told you?"

Miguel snorted. "C'mon, Sister. This is O'Reily. He hasn't told me about the nightmares in the first place, he ain't telling me about them stopping."

She smiled despite of herself. With a few words, Miguel had hit on Ryan's inability to open up to others. "So how do you know?"

"You always know when the man you're sharing a bed with has nightmare," Beecher replied before Miguel could. "You wake up before he does, wait to see if it gets worse, try to decide if you should wake him up. When the nightmares stop, you sleep again."

Miguel gave a half shrug. "Pretty much, yeah."

"So you and Ryan are sharing a bed..." Sister Pete left the statement unfinished.

"We are sleeping in the same bed, nothin' else, Sister," Miguel answered.

"Yeah, they do the rest standing up," Beecher added with a smirk.

"Beecher, don't you have some fuckin' Aryan to kill?" Miguel asked.

Beecher swirled around, and grinned. "Nah, you and O'Reily are much more entertaining lately. Besides none of the Aryans fuck with me. You know, no one wants to end up like dear old Vern."

Miguel leaned against the armrest, glaring at Beecher. "And maybe you should start minding your own damn business, if you don't want to end up like him neither."

Beecher stretched his arms, before locking his fingers behind his head. "I don't think so. O'Reily wouldn't let you do it."

Miguel pushed his chair to the floor, standing in front of Beecher. "I don't need O'Reily to tell me what to do."

"Boys, boys, calm down." Sister Pete stood up, and went to their side. "Tobias, leave us alone, please."

"Sure thing, Sister." Beecher winked at Miguel before he left the room.

Sister Pete sighed. If people like Tobias played these macho games, how would she ever get the others to stop? "Sit down, Miguel, please."

"Look, Sister, there's no need. I only came here to let you know that you're helping. There's nothing else to discuss."

"Maybe there is. Has Ryan told you why he was feeling like he was?" she asked as she sat down.

Miguel laughed at the question. "Sister, we aren't a bunch of women, talkin' about feelings and all that crap."

"So how do you know how he's feeling?" she pressed on.

Miguel shrugged. "I just know, same as he knows."

"Yes, but you've helped him in the past. How did you know what would help if he never said anything?"

Miguel shook his head. The woman really didn't get it, no matter how much she tried. "I just do, and I do it, and not 'cause he says to do, but because I want to. No matter what Beecher says, it ain't like that. We're friends." As he said it, it hit him. Through the months, they had become true friends, something he didn't think possible in Oz. "Strange as it sounds, we're friends."

Sister Pete smiled. "I'm glad for both of you."

"Don't go thinking too much about it, Sister," Miguel said dismissively, but the smile betrayed his feelings on the subject. "I gotta run, Sister." He left the office still thinking about this new realization.

* * *

**Part 43 - Prompt 073. Light: Recognition**

Miguel had been busy for the rest of the day, returning to their pod in time for the nightly count, before being locked up for the night. It didn't take long to realize that there was something on O'Reily's mind. He didn't think it was business or O'Reily would have already brought up the subject, but two hours later, O'Reily was still lying silently on his bed.

Miguel got up, and went to his trunk, looking for the cassette player Suzanne had given him. Music would be better than this silence.

"You went to see Sister Pete today," Ryan said finally.

Miguel closed his trunk again, and stood up. He reached the beds, and climbed up onto Ryan's bed. When there was no complaint from Ryan, he sat at the end. "What did she tell you?"

"She didn't tell me anything," Ryan answered.

Miguel frowned, trying to figure this out and then... "Beecher."

"Yeah, Beecher."

"I'm gonna fucking kill the son of a bitch."

Ryan smiled. "You won't."

The certainty in Ryan's voice alimented Miguel's anger, and he would have gone straight down to Beecher's pod and airhole him, if he could have. "Just 'cause you say-"

Ryan sat up, and put a hand on Miguel's arm. "Beecher is good at riling people up, but he don't mean half the shit he says. If you go killin' everyone who annoys the fuck out of you, you're gonna end up in death row sooner than you can say shank, and that's why you won't kill him, not because I'm tellin' you what to do."

"You might have a point... I'd still like to hurt the bastard," Miguel muttered.

"You aren't the only one," Ryan answered with a smirk. "Beecher is... he's Beecher. I wanted to hurt him a few times myself."

Miguel nodded. He stayed silent, head against the wall, a foot on the mattress, hoping for something more, but Ryan was silent again. "So this is about Beecher?"

Ryan shook his head. "It's about..." He bit off whatever he was about to say, and moved on the bed, until he was sitting shoulder to shoulder with Miguel. "She didn't help, not really. You did. Just thought you should know."

"So... we're like... having a moment here?" Miguel teased.

"Fuck, no! You helped, I told you, we're done talking," Ryan answered back.

Miguel ran his fingers over Ryan's arm, drawing circles on Ryan's wrist as he thought. "How did I help?" he finally asked.

"You're here, aren't you? Day after day, and... you said you won't die on me." Ryan snorted. "It sounds so fucking stupid."

"It doesn't. Do you know why I started taking D, why I went with Torquemada? 'Cause I couldn't take it anymore. Everyone I cared about died, or left, or something else happened, and I'd be fucking alone again. I wanted to feel alive, loved even if it was all fake, even if it was those fucking pills." Miguel shook his head. "It ain't stupid; it's... I don't know... normal, I guess."

"So does this mean that... we're having a moment?" Ryan asked with a grin.

Miguel slapped his thigh. "Fucking Mick. It means... it means we're friends."

"Friends... I can deal with that, and in the spirit of friendship, Ma brought some peaches today. They're in my trunk."

"Man, I love your mother. Fresh fruit, new music, even that Starbucks frappucino, I think I'm gonna have to marry her."

Ryan laughed. "I'm sure she'd be thrilled, especially if she knows what we've been up to. C'mon, get those peaches, you lazy Spick."

"Orders, orders, orders," Miguel bitched as he gracefully jumped to the floor. 

Ryan grabbed his arms. "I don't give you orders."

"Yeah, you do: get naked, suck me off, get me off, but I don't mind, baby."

Ryan laughed as he let Miguel go. Friends, he could deal with that, especially since Miguel seemed to be okay with it as well.

* * *

**Part 44 - The New Arrival**

**Prompt 056. Breakfast: 7:12 am**

Miguel got his food, before taking it to what had become his customary seat next to Ryan. He nodded toward the far side of the room. "Jorge Escobar, he arrived today. He's gonna be a problem."

Ryan looked at the man. Tall, fat, thinning black hair, and unkept mustaches, but what Ryan really saw where the dark eyes, eyes that talked about death and shrewdness. "What do you know?"

"Guy's big shit in Colombia, part of the cartel. He's staying here while his appeal's pending, after that he's got a ticket back to Colombia. He's already talked to some of my men... like he can run things here without needing you or the Italians, and especially not me. Things are about to get really ugly."

Ryan studied the man again. He was not one to underestimate a problem, that's how he'd stayed alive for so long. This needed some smooth work. In the past, he would have allowed the Spicks to battle it out, and he would side with the winner, but now, he needed to protect Alvarez as well. "I'm gonna speak with Pancamo, before he decides to change his alliances."

"It's gonna be hard with you locked up in our pod," Miguel commented.

"Only for another week, Alvarez, and then I'm free to roam the halls like before. Okay, I only have a few minutes before they send me back. I'll see Pancamo right now. You... keep your ears open, and be careful."

"Don't I always?" Miguel asked with a grin.

Ryan snorted. "You don't know what 'careful' means." Then he was up, and walking toward the back of the kitchen.

**Prompt 050. Spade: 7:14 am**

"O'Reily, you shouldn't be here. I don't want no shit with McManus, not when everything is running smoothly," Pancamo said as he saw Ryan entered the storage area.

"Everything won't be running smoothly for long," Ryan commented, "and fucking McManus won't be the problem." He looked toward the new inmate. "He only got here yesterday, and even I've heard the rumors, and I can't even get out of my fucking pod."

"Yeah? What rumors?"

"Tsk, tsk, Chucky, your people aren't doing what they are supposed to, like telling you that the guy already wants to take over the tits business, *your* business." Ryan rested against the shelves, resting his arms over the metal structure. "He ain't interested in my little corner of the market. No, he wants it all, says the cartel can do business better than the Italians."

"Son of a bitch." Pancamo glared at Escobar. "Alvarez sure of what he's saying?"

"El Norte is still following him, and that's what he got from his guys. This Escobar... he wants to destroy all of us, from the inside. We gotta stick together, before he does what Torquemada did."

"He'll be dead before he tries. No more Spicks in charge, especially not a foreign fuck like Escobar." Chucky pulled out a shank, and pressed it to Ryan's neck. "You and your pal try to sell me out on this, and I'm gonna fucking kill both of you."

Ryan cleared his throat, before carefully pushing the shank away, and yet he managed to stay relaxed. "I have no interest in doing business with that fuck. I want him dead as much as you. We gotta find a way, that's all. I gotta go, but I'll see you at later, maybe we can decide *how* to kill him."

**Prompt 058. Dinner: 4:23 pm**

Ryan raised his head momentarily when he felt someone behind him. He nodded to Meaney who slid down and left a seat for Pancamo. Miguel took the empty seat at his right side.

"Micks and Spicks sitting together, I'd never thought I'd see the day," Pancamo commented.

"We believe in racial friendship, don't we?" Miguel asked with a grin.

"Oh yes, it's all about social equality," Ryan answered.

"And business," Chico answered from Miguel's side.

Ryan shrugged. "That, too. So what have we got on this fuck?"

"He wants to get into Em City," Pancamo said with a snort. "Not even McManus is that stupid. He told Escobar that people about to be deported don't get to stay in Em City."

"Murphy had more... interesting things to say," Meaney added. "Like fucking scumbags like him should die horrible deaths, and not get special treatment."

Ryan laughed. "Good for Murphy. Still, it doesn't help with our problem. Em City or not, this guy can move lots of shit."

"Not inside Oz he can't," Pancamo answered. 

"We gotta make sure of that," Miguel answered. "Bikers and Homeboys aren't too particular where they get their tits."

"You know he's gonna need the support." Pancamo stared at Miguel. "Having control of El Norte would give him that."

"Think I don't know that, Pancamo? He ain't the first one trying to airhole me for El Norte, but this is bigger than me or El Norte, ain't it? You want me to do the work, but you guys are the ones who benefit the most... It don't seem fair."

Pancamo nodded to the space between the two sides of the room. "C'mon, this should be private."

Ryan and Miguel followed Pancamo to the empty area. "What do you want, Alvarez?" Chucky asked.

Miguel leaned against the wall. "The way I see it, we end up taking the risks, while you have seventy-five percent of the business. It's time for a more... equal role, and in exchange El Norte shares the alcohol business." 

Ryan stood on the side, letting Miguel make his own deals, but inside he was screaming. This was insane; worse, this was suicide. Miguel was sealing his own fate, offering himself up for bait in exchange for more money. That was not the way to do things. Ryan wanted to intervene, but he knew that any interference from him would make Miguel look weak. 

He watched Chucky mull it over, and hoped that Chucky would turn Miguel down, but the next words took his last hope away. 

"All right, you get rid of that fuck, and we change the terms of our agreement. After all, I worked well with Morales and El Norte in the past." 

Miguel nodded. "We have a deal then."

*Only if you make it out alive*, Ryan thought.

**Prompt 064. Fall: 5:01 pm**

Ryan didn't have to wait long before he and Miguel were safely locked inside their pod. Ryan took a look outside, making sure that the hacks were not paying attention to them, before slamming Miguel against the wall, fists closed around Miguel's sweatshirt. "Are you fucking insane, offering yourself up for bait? That's not how you do it, you get Pancamo to do it for you."

Miguel closed his fingers around Ryan's wrists, but didn't push him away. "I don't got no choice, O'Reily, and you know it. Escobar is going after me first, 'cause we're his people. The rest of these fucks are gonna stand by and watch who comes out alive. I'm his target whether I want it or not, why not make some money out of it?"

"Money? You won't need money if you're fuckin' dead." Ryan let the sweatshirt go, and cupped Miguel's face. "Going after Escobar and hoping that you survive ain't a plan; it's suicide. We need a plan, a way to kill the bastard without you getting involved."

Miguel closed his fingers around Ryan's hips. He leaned his head until their foreheads were touching. "You come up with something, I'll go along, baby, but sometimes you gotta do what you gotta do. 'Sides, I can't have the guys think I'm a coward, that ain't El Norte's way."

"Fuck your ways; your ways get people killed. My way gets other people killed. Big fucking difference. You gonna lay low for the next week, and then I'm out. We'll figure something out then, okay?"

"You're telling me what I should do, baby?"

"No, I am asking you to stay alive. Please...." Ryan bit his lip, shaking his head. "You can't die, okay?"

"I'm not gonna."

"Good, 'cause I couldn't...." Ryan stopped, unable to speak, and he finally knew; he had the answer to Sister Pete's question. He had fallen for another guy, for Alvarez, regardless how wrong it was, he could not ignore it any longer, just like... "I can't live knowing you died inside this place. You gotta survive until you can get the hell out of here. I'm gonna make sure it happens."

"Sure you will," Miguel whispered.

Ryan knew that Miguel didn't believe him, but he'd prove Miguel wrong. He'd failed with Cyril. He wouldn't do it again.

* * *

**Part 45 - Plans and Counterplans**

**Prompt 008. Weeks: Waiting**

The next week was hell for Ryan. Each time Miguel stepped out of Em City, the worrying began. No matter what Miguel said, Ryan was well aware of his history and his tendency to act first and think later.

When his month of confinement ended, Ryan thought his misery would end too, but he was wrong. In fact, things got worse, because now he could see first hand how reckless Miguel was being. It was almost as he was purposely baiting Escobar. Nothing too overt to be sure, but it was there if you knew where to look: the posturing, the indirect jabs, the parades with Miguel in the lead and his most trusted men behind. Ryan had always preferred to dance solo, it made for a much harder target.

More worrisome was the look in Escobar's face. Ryan knew that look. It was cold and calculating, with just the right smirk when Escobar thought no one was looking to tell Ryan that Escobar had something in the works, and Ryan had no clue what.

As the days passed, Ryan only got more worried. There still was no word about what Escobar was up to, but he'd heard rumors about Escobar and Jefferson talking. That was definitely something to be concerned about. 

"Food won't get in the plates unless you put it there," Pancamo said as he approached Ryan during dinner.

"Something is going on," Ryan said in a hiss.

"You've been saying that for days, O'Reily. It's getting old."

Ryan shook his head. "Look at him, he's tense, waiting, something is going down right now."

Chucky looked around. "If it is, you should worry about your pal. He ain't here."

"Fuck," Ryan murmured under his breath when he realized that Pancamo was right. Miguel wasn't here, but the rest of El Norte was. "I gotta go." He handed the spoon to Pancamo who glared at him. 

"Come back here, O'Reily. Your job ain't to look after that Spick."

Before Ryan could respond, the hacks' radios came alive, and the lock down was announced. Ryan looked up at Escobar. The man looked pleased about the situation. Alvarez better be alive, or Ryan swore that he'd be the one to airhole the bastard.

**Prompt 049. Club: Protection**

Tim McManus walked into the infirmary, and went straight for Gloria. "I need to speak to you. In your office."

"Sure." She smiled at Miguel, who was lying on the bed. "I'll be back soon. Don't move."

Miguel grinned. "Ain't going nowhere, Doc."

She shook her head, still smiling, before walking to her office, with Tim behind. "What is it?"

"He shouldn't be here," Tim started, "he should be in Ad Seg. I don't care how much you like him, but he just killed a man."

"And I don't care what you or the Warden want. Miguel is injured and I'm not sending a patient in the hole." She opened a cabinet, and took out x-rays. "Look, look over here. He's got hairline fractures in his ribs, the ones he injured before. Tim, these were not the result of the fight with Bennett. He's got too many bruises and cuts to be anything but the result of... shall we say... enthusiastic C.O.s. If Bennett had beaten him so badly, he wouldn't have been able to kill him. Even if Miguel did kill him, it was legitimate defense, and he shouldn't be in the hole. If he was unhurt and able to kill Jefferson, then someone did a number on him. So don't give me any crap, Tim."

"We don't know what happened yet," Tim said coldly.

"Yeah? And I'm not sending him to the hole until you do find out. I will not do what you say so they can finish the job they started. Miguel is staying here, and that's final."

Tim perched on the edge of her desk. "We could take him down without your consent."

"Yes, you could, but when something happens to him, I will make sure that you, the Warden and all involved lose your jobs." She shook her head. "I'm not here to cover up what happens so that the Warden can claim that there is no violence in Oz. I'm here to treat the inmates. Don't push me on this, Tim, because I won't back down. I can't sell my conscience to make him happy."

Tim sighed. "Maybe you're right, maybe it's better this way. Gives everyone time to calm down."

"I doubt it," she murmured.

"What are you saying?" Tim asked.

Gloria shook her head. There was nothing concrete that she knew. She didn't even know why Miguel had killed Bennett, although he'd claimed self-defense. No, she didn't know much for certain, but from her history with Ryan, she knew that someone was going to pay for whatever happened.

* * *

**Part 46 - Prompt 020. Colourless: Bleakness**

Ryan had learned from Keaton that Alvarez was still alive, right before he went to his pod for lock down. It didn't answer all of his questions, but at least allowed him to sleep a little better.

The next morning, he crossed Em City, and went to Pancamo. "I'm going to the infirmary."

"Don't be stupid, O'Reily. We'll set up trays quickly, and then you go. I wanna know what the fuck happened as much as you, but a few more minutes won't change anything."

Ryan sighed. Pancamo was right, barging into the infirmary would only get him thrown out just as quickly. He needed time to speak with Alvarez, to find out what had happened, and how Escobar was involved.

The next thirty minutes seemed to go on forever, but finally the trays were ready, and Ryan was off. He went to the infirmary first. He passed the trays to the few people there, but his eyes were on Alvarez the entire time.

Ryan grabbed the side table, put a tray down, and rolled it closer to the bed. "Hey."

"Hey, there. I ain't dead yet," Miguel said with a smile.

"Not for lack of trying, Alvarez." Ryan moved closer, resting on the table. "What the fuck happened?"

"Bennett happened. Bastard tried to kill me. Another fucker who can't do it right, spent too much time talking about shit. Of course, shithead didn't think I'd survive to tell the tale."

Ryan rolled his eyes. "Fine, he's a dick."

"He was a dick. He's dead," Miguel said gravely. "However, he couldn't keep his mouth shut, telling me why I was gonna die and all that shit. Seems Bennett was working for Jefferson. Jefferson and Escobar made a deal. They get rid of me; Escobar gets rid of Pancamo. With me gone, Escobar would control El Norte, and they'd move together to take over the tits business."

Ryan nodded. "At least, this isn't a complete waste. Now, Pancamo will have to do some of the dirty work to protect himself." 

"Yeah, I just killed a man, but don't let that stop you from your fucking schemin', O'Reily," Miguel spat out.

"Hey-" Ryan leaned even closer, his hand closing around Miguel's arms. "I'm not the one who's been walking around with a bulls eye painted on my chest. I told you to lay low. He was gonna kill you, you killed him. It's done, now we have to worry about the future, okay?"

Miguel turned his head away. "Yeah, sure."

Ryan stood up, annoyed. "Fine, I'll see you later."

Miguel grabbed Ryan's hand before he could leave. "Querns was here this morning. I'm being charged with first degree murder."

Ryan stumbled backward, shaking his head. "That's... they can't."

"Hacks found me with the shank in my hand, O'Reily. I ain't getting out of this one." Miguel shrugged. "I always knew I wouldn't get out of here alive, never though I'd be executed though."

"Don't... don't you fucking say that. We'll find a way out of this, okay? You keep your mouth shut, don't talk to no one until I can come up with something."

"O'Reily... Ryan, stop, okay? You can't fix this."

"You're wrong." Ryan shook his head. "You're fucking wrong," he yelled as he took the cart out of the room. Not even the sad look from Gloria who was standing on a side would convince him otherwise. He would have to find a way to stop this.

* * *

**Part 47 - Getting Out of the Hole**

**Prompt 052. Fire: Playing with Fire**

Ryan leaned against the wall, just outside the infirmary. Turmoil reigned in Ryan's mind. He needed to calm down, needed to think. There was no way that Alvarez was going to die, either at Escobar's hand or the state's. Calm, planning, that's what it took. He wouldn't overlook anything, not like he'd done with Cyril. 

He needed to prioritize, to take care of the most urgent problems first: Escobar. He needed to eliminate the more immediate threat. He continued his rounds, clearing his mind as he handed out trays. No matter how he turned it around, this wasn't something that would go away with some words here and there. It had to be a precise attack, traceable to no one.

He returned to the kitchen with a plan in mind. He nodded to Pancamo, and they moved toward the furthest corner of the kitchen. "Jefferson and Escobar are working together. They plan to take out both Alvarez and you."

"What game are you playing, O'Reily?" Pancamo asked immediately. "You ain't getting me to do your dirty work."

"No games this time," Ryan said, bouncing from foot to foot. "Bennett told Alvarez they're planning to take over the tits business, and they need both of you out of the way." Ryan got closer. "Look, I know you don't trust me, but you know me. You know I'd happily sit by and side with the winner, but I can't do this, not this time."

Pancamo rubbed the back of his neck, thinking. Truth was, he knew O'Reily, and he wouldn't give a shit who ran the tits business because he'd always managed to hold onto his small corner of the market. "All right, O'Reily, but if this is your way to protect your..." He snorted. "Your friend."

"It is, but it don't mean that it's not the right thing for you as well. Alvarez has proven that he can hold his own, but this is getting out of control, and we gotta stop it before it blows up in our faces."

"You mean I gotta stop it." Pancamo sighed. "Go away, O'Reily. We don't need to give the hacks no reasons to suspect something is going on."

Ryan nodded, and walked away. He had no intention to stay anyway. He had other things to worry about. Let the Italians take care of the Spick, and the niggers too.

**Prompt 024. Family: Extended Ties**

Ryan went to the one person he knew would support him. He knocked on Sister Pete's door, and stepped in. "Sister, can I talk to you?"

She looked sadly at him, and nodded. "Have a seat, Ryan." She turned to Beecher. "Would you give us a moment, Tobias?"

Beecher got up. "Sure, Sister."

"No, there's no need. Beecher can stay," Ryan said. 

"You're here about Miguel," Sister started.

Ryan nodded. "We gotta stop the Warden. I don't know what to do about it. I mean, dealing and scammin' that I can do, but this... it's out of my league, Sister. You gotta help me."

Sister Pete smiled. "You mean help Miguel."

"No, I mean help me. The fucker already thinks he's gonna be executed, and if he isn't gonna do anything to stop it, I will." Ryan ran his fingers through his hair. "C'mon, Sister, you gotta have some ideas."

"They have to convict him first."

Ryan turned to Beecher. "Yeah, I know that, but it don't seem too hard to convict an inmate."

"That's because most inmates don't have good lawyers," Toby went on. "That's what you need, O'Reily."

"It's not like we're rich in here, Beecher. Lawyers cost money; good lawyers cost even more money." Ryan paused for a moment, and moved his chair closer to Beecher. "Maybe you can... you got Keller off."

Toby shook his head. "My firm did, not me. There were plenty of people involved. I'm not a lawyer anymore, they wouldn't let me defend him. Besides, I wouldn't have access to all the evidence. I can't do it, Ryan, but... I can ask my brother. Angus could..." He sighed. "I don't know if he wants to get involved with what happened to my dad, but I'll ask, okay?"

"You gotta convince him, Beecher, okay? Alvarez was only defending himself, you tell him that. He didn't want to kill that nigger."

Toby chuckled. "Maybe we could try without the insults."

"Yeah, whatever you say, whatever you want. Just do this, man."

"Ryan, I'm not guaranteeing anything, do you understand that, right?"

"Yeah, I know, but he... he got you off for... Keller. He can do the same for Alvarez," Ryan said. 

"I'll see what I can do."

Ryan nodded, and stood up, still bouncing on his feet. He still had things to do, things to take care of. God, he felt like he hadn't stopped since talking to Alvarez.

"Ryan?"

Ryan looked at Sister Pete. "Yes?"

"You haven't taken anything, have you?" she asked.

He shook his head. "No, I need a clear head, Sister. Can't let that shit cloud my judgment."

Sister Pete nodded. "You're looking a little...jumpy. Maybe we should talk, yes?"

"We will, I promise, Sister, but not now. I'll come back later, okay? Bye."

Beecher watched him go before smiling at Sister Pete. "Jumpy? He's like the energizer bunny. He keeps going and going."

"But what will happen if something happens to Miguel? I hope you can do something for them."

"So do I, Sister. I know what it means losing someone you love. There is so little joy in here."

"Have you considered that Miguel might be guilty?"

Beecher snorted. "Does it matter? We're all guilty of something in Oz."

Sister Pete nodded. Guilty mattered to her, but no crime should be punished with the death penalty. She would help stop another murder any way she could, even if it was a state sanctioned one.

**Prompt 096. Writer's Choice: The Final Step**

Ryan's last step was McManus. He went straight to his office while most of the denizens of Em City were still at lunch. "We need to talk," he said as a way of introduction.

McManus relaxed against the back of his chair. "Why do I know that there's going to be trouble?"

"You need to get Alvarez back to Em City," Ryan said as he sat on one of the chairs. 

McManus chuckled. "I had a very similar discussion only a few weeks ago. Oh wait, that was Alvarez, and he was talking about you. Sorry, O'Reily, no can do this time."

"You let Beecher stay in Em City while he waited for trail. You can have Alvarez here, if you want," Ryan added.

"Why should I? He killed a man, a C.O. found him shank still dripping blood. Why should I give him the benefit of the doubt?" McManus asked.

"Keller fell in front of everyone, and you gave Beecher the benefit of the doubt. Alvarez killed that man, but it was self-defense."

McManus cocked his head. "Do you know something, O'Reily?"

Ryan snorted. "C'mon, McManus, you don't really expect me to answer that?"

"I admit that it would be refreshing to have an answer once in a while, but no, I don't expect miracles. Self-defense, ah?"

Ryan nodded. "Yes, it was."

"He's going to need more than that if he wants to get out of this one, especially with all the shit he's pulled in the past."

"I know. Beecher is gonna talk to his brother, but in the meantime, I want Alvarez back in Em City."

"You want? YOU WANT? You don't get to tell me what to do, O'Reily."

"Look, I... I'm asking you, okay? Shit happens in this place, and Alvarez..." Ryan took a deep breath. "He's safer here, that's all."

"You know it'd be so much easier if you told me who's trying to kill him, but you won't, and neither will Miguel." McManus sighed again. "I'll think about it, O'Reily. Now, get the hell out of here."

Ryan stood up. "Thank you."

**Prompt 041. Shapes: Full Circle**

At the end of the day, Tim stopped by the infirmary, going directly into Gloria's office. She was bent over her desk, writing notes in a chart. Tim smiled. "You work more than me."

She looked up and smiled. "Someone has to keep them alive."

Tim nodded. "Yeah, I know the feeling. You're releasing Alvarez tomorrow?"

"Depends," she answered, and Tim noticed the tension in her body. 

"Will it make a difference if I say that he's going back to Em City?" he asked as he moved closer to her desk.

"It will." She put her pen down, and stood up. Gloria put her hands on his shoulders. "What made you change your mind?"

"O'Reily," McManus said enigmatically.

She raised her eyebrows. "Ryan? Since when do you listen to what he has to say?"

He shrugged. "For once, I think he wasn't lying, he had no game. I figured we both will be here for a long time, maybe if I reward decent behavior, he'll change."

Gloria chuckled. "Biggest bullshit I ever heard from you."

Tim laughed. "It's not bullshit. I really think he was honest, and no matter what you think, I don't want to see Alvarez hurt, or anyone else for that matter."

"And? I know there is more. There is no way that you'd change your mind simply because Ryan talked to you."

He grinned. "All right, so maybe, Father Ray asked me the same thing before O'Reily did, and maybe, Sister Pete basically guilted me into allowing Alvarez back. Not to mention that I really didn't want to annoy my fiancée. She can get really mean."

Gloria laughed. "Well, always blame her, then."

"Ready to go home?"

She nodded. "The rest of these charts can wait until the morning." She took her lab coat off, and put on her jacket. She closed her fingers around Tim's as they walked out of Oz, leaving the problems behind, if only for a few hours.

* * *

**Part 48 - Destiny**

**Prompt 097. Writer's Choice: Fighting Destiny**

Ryan paced up and down the upstairs walkway. McManus hadn't said anything, but he had learned from Miguel who had learned it from Gloria that McManus had agreed to send Miguel back to Em City. More proof that there were no secrets in Oz, no matter what people liked to believe.

So here he was, pacing, waiting for Alvarez to come back, except this time the man wasn't going anywhere without people around. He could bitch and moan, but Ryan had already spoken to Meaney and Guerra. Miguel would get constant protection whether he liked it or not. Ryan had a feeling that it would be 'not'.

Miguel arrived only minutes before the nightly count. He went upstairs, looking downstairs at the two shadows that had walked with him since he'd left the infirmary. "They your idea?"

Ryan nodded. "Why? We have a problem?"

"Ask the next time you decide to make plans about me." Miguel walked inside the pod, slamming the door as he did so.

Ryan winced, but let it go. He wouldn't be happy either if the roles were reversed. Then again, he'd learned the art of moving invisibly around Oz. Miguel couldn't do it; he had a way to attract attention with his cocky walk and maddening grin.

Fortunately, count was called within minutes, and then they were alone again. Miguel lay down immediately, ignoring Ryan, who sat at the edge of the bed. "It's temporary."

"Yeah? Until when?" Miguel asked angrily. "Until I fry? Don't you understand? I'd rather die with a shank through my body than wait for an execution." 

"You're not gonna fry," Ryan said resolutely.

"Yeah? You're taking care of that too?" Miguel asked, annoyed.

"Yeah, I am." Ryan put his hand on Miguel's hand. "Beecher's gonna talk to his brother tomorrow, convince him to defend you. Those people got Beecher off, they'll get you off too."

Miguel sat up, cupping the back of Ryan's neck. "Don't get your hopes up, baby. Beecher is family, I'm nothing to them, just another Spick who deserves to rot in jail."

"Don't, okay? Beecher will convince his brother, and things will be fine." Ryan caressed Miguel's cheek, his finger tracing the scar that marred Miguel's face. "Don't give up on me, Alvarez. You need to fight this; promise me you will."

Miguel covered his face with a hand. "It's... it's easier to accept this, O'Reily. I can't... can't keep fighting. I'm tired, I've done it since arriving in Oz, but nothing works out. If it puts an end..."

"No." Ryan shook his head. "You're getting out, I told you. Just trust me on this, Alvarez." He gently pulled away Miguel's hands, and kissed them. "You and me, Alvarez... Miguel, we'll stick together until you get out."

Miguel nodded tiredly. "I want to be alone, for now, okay?"

"Yeah." Ryan kissed him gently before hiding in his own bed. This was not going to be easy, but he would convince Miguel to fight this.

**Prompt 023. Lovers: Intimacy**

The lights went out for the night in Em City. Ryan tried to stay as still as possible, almost afraid to rock the boat at this point. He didn't even bother with moving under the covers; it wasn't like he was going to be able to sleep any time soon.

"O'Reily," came the whispered call from the lower bunk.

Ryan held his breath for a moment. "Yes?"

"Get your ass down here," Miguel ordered.

Just like that all the tension left Ryan, and he started laughing. "Whatever you say." Ryan got down from his bed, and slipped next to Miguel. He fought with Miguel's shirt, until he found naked skin under his fingertips. As he did so, he heard Miguel let out a small gasp. "Hey, you okay?"

Miguel rolled on top of Ryan, burrowed his head against Ryan, and nodded. Ryan closed his arms around Miguel, holding him tight. "I'm not going anywhere," he whispered. "You're stuck with me, Alvarez."

"Is that supposed to make me feel better?" Miguel asked, but he couldn't keep his voice from shaking, and Ryan's arms tightened in response. "I don't want to die," he confessed in a whisper.

Ryan pressed his lips to Miguel's temple, before planting gentle kisses down his cheek. "I'm not gonna let you; I swear."

"I almost believe you. You..." Miguel cleared his throat. "Past few months, you made me believe that I matter, even stuck in this fucking place."

For once words failed Ryan, but he tried, because Miguel did matter, whether he knew it or not. "You got friends here, Alvarez, not just me. Even fucking McManus likes you."

Miguel smiled. "Yeah, but they see someone they need to save. You... you want to see me hold my own. You force me to take charge, to pay attention, to have some balls." He finally raised his head to look at Ryan. "You force me to live in a place where it's so easy to accept the numbness."

Ryan smirked. "I told ya, you're gonna live whether you want or not. I'll make sure of that."

Miguel smiled, but only for a fleeting moment, before he became serious again. "There is something you can do... if you want..."

"What?" Ryan asked without hesitation.

"Fuck me."

It took all of his control not to physically react, instead he kept his arms around Miguel. "You're not gonna-"

Miguel pressed a finger over Ryan's lips. "You don't know what the hell is gonna happen tomorrow, or the day after, or the day after that. I don't either. You don't wanna do it, that's fine, but don't give me some bullshit reassurance. We both know it's crap."

"Why?" Ryan asked, shaking his head. "Why now? Why this?"

"Because..." Miguel couldn't think of an answer that wasn't too sweet, too much, too wrong, or maybe too right. He couldn't explain how he'd seen Alonzo come alive as he fucked him, or how he'd felt a spark of humanity when Alonzo had fucked him, not without making comparisons, however unintentionally. He shrugged, and rested his head on Ryan's shoulder again. "Never mind."

Ryan needed an answer, words to help him understand, but he knew that sometimes words were harder than action. He reached under Miguel's sweatshirt, running his hands over the muscular back. 

He could do this, Ryan told himself. He could give Miguel what he wanted; he could always close his eyes and picture Shannon or maybe Gloria, or even better Miguel on his knees, sucking his cock, and his cock seemed to like that, twitching at the images in his head. 

Ryan pushed Miguel off and rolled on top of him, sealing Miguel's mouth with his before the questions could come. When he pulled back, his fingers kept moving over Miguel's lips, and Miguel licked them, sucking on them, and by god, he was getting hard just like this.

"We're gonna get up," Ryan started, voice low and needy, "we're gonna get naked, and we're gonna get under the blanket, 'cause I'm not giving anyone a show, and then I'm gonna fuck you, okay?"

Miguel rolled them again, a foot already on the floor as he gave Ryan another kiss. Then he was up and getting naked, because Oz was not a place for pleasantries or long sessions of lovemaking. He was in bed again, cock in hand, pumping slowly as he waited for Ryan to join him again.

When Ryan blanketed him with his body, the heat was nothing short of exhilarating. "You sure?" Ryan asked again.

"If you ask again, I'm gonna deck you," Miguel answered with a grin.

"Gee, Alvarez, you say the sweetest things." Ryan was on the side, a hand on Miguel's shoulder. "Turn around."

For a moment, their eyes met, each searching for some silent reassurance, and then Miguel rolled on his stomach, spreading his legs to give Ryan some room. He watched over his shoulder as Ryan spit on his hand, coating his dick with saliva. Their eyes met again, and Miguel could see the doubt there. "Don't ask again."

It was enough, because he felt Ryan's cock, and he braced himself for the pain, but nothing prepared him for the slowness with which Ryan moved, stretching him slowly until he was ready to yell from frustration.

Ryan pressed his entire body against Miguel, curling his fingers around his lover. He moved so slowly that Miguel thought he was going to break with each gentle thrust. He had expected Ryan to pound into him, making it hard and fast, but this... he wasn't sure if it was better or worse.

Hidden under the blanket and Ryan's body, he could feel more than alive, he could feel safe, protected, if only for a few moments. He wondered if Ryan knew that. He turned enough that he could watch his lover, and Ryan was looking back, eyes glazed with desire, and something else, something close to affection, at least Miguel liked to think so.

Ryan met Miguel's eyes, black pools of need, a need he needed to satisfy. No matter how much Ryan had tried to think about someone else, tried to picture Gloria under him, he couldn't stop focusing on Alvarez, trembling from the tension under him, moaning as he sank into that tight ass. 

He could hear steps from downstairs, and he knew that they had to make it quick. He moved their joined hands around Miguel's cock. He spread the precome over the swollen head, and down the hard length, pumping faster and faster. His thrusts became more erratic, pushing quicker, and then Miguel's ass clamped around his dick, squeezing it until Ryan spilled inside Miguel's ass.

The light blinded him before he could breathe again. Ryan turned his face, recognizing Murphy's form. He mouthed a simple 'please'. Murphy lowered the flashlight and pointed it to the clothes. Ryan nodded, and the light disappeared. Thank God for Irish hacks.

"What was that?" Miguel asked, head still buried in his pillow.

"Nothing." Ryan kissed Miguel's shoulder. "We gotta get dressed, and we're moving to my bed. Yours is a mess."

Miguel chuckled. "I wonder why."

"No fucking idea, man." Ryan squeezed Miguel's hand, before moving away. They put on their clothes quickly and silently, before going to Ryan's bed. With time, they had learned to fit in the narrow bed, a mingle of arms and legs. Miguel rested his head on Ryan's chest, and sighed. "Y'know... I have to ask you something."

Ryan ran his fingers over Miguel's hair as he spoke. "If you think I'm gonna marry you 'cause we fucked, I'm sorry, I ain't doing it." He smiled when he felt Miguel fighting not to laugh, but then Miguel draw his head back, and stared at him. Ryan sighed, waiting for whatever emotional crap people discussed after sex. "What is it?"

"After all this time, and everything we've shared, I think... it's only fair... we always use my bed, and so... you're gonna have to start doing my laundry, baby."

Ryan started to laugh. "You're crazy, chico, but I think we can find a compromise."

"Good." Miguel rested his head back. "So who was that?"

Ryan didn't even have to ask. "Murphy."

"Sorry."

Ryan shrugged. "Could have been worse, it could have been McManus. 'Sides, I don't care. Now, shut the fuck up before Murphy comes back and kicks both our asses." It was an excuse, but talking would probably lead them where neither of them was ready to go. A good night of sleep would do them both some good.

* * *

**Part 49 - Another Day**

**Prompt 062. Spring: March 21**

"Lock down!" Keaton yelled from the middle of Em City.

Ryan frowned, looking around for anything that could explain this. The brief smile on Pancamo's face told him all he needed to know. He grabbed Miguel's arm, and pulled him toward their pod. "I think it's time for a celebration."

Miguel raised his eyebrows. "Yeah?"

"Oh hell, yeah," Ryan said with a grin.

No sooner where they locked up in their cell that McManus waltzed in. He stood in front of the bed where the two inmates were sitting. "You wouldn't happen to know what happened, would you?" he asked Ryan.

Ryan continued to shuffles the cards he had in his hands. "I have no clue, McManus, but hey, if you'd like to inform us..."

"Two people are dead, and you know nothing about it? I find it hard to believe it."

"For your information, some shit does go down without my involvement. I know, it's so hard to believe," Ryan said sweetly.

"Who's dead?" Miguel asked.

"Jefferson and Escobar."

Ryan put down the cards, and leaned back against the wall. "Seems like the two were fighting, then."

"Escobar fell from the stairs. Jefferson was stabbed outside the factory. I doubt they were fighting," McManus said.

Ryan picked up the cards again. "I don't know why you're asking me then. Only hacks have the keys to the stairs, and I don't go to the factory."

"I never thought you did it personally," McManus said.

Ryan raised his head, and stared at the man. "Why should I have cared about those two fuckers?"

"Because rumor is that they are the ones who wanted Miguel dead."

Ryan bent his knees, resting his feet on the blanket. He put his arms over his knees. "One, rumors are more abundant than tits in Oz. It don't mean they are real. And two, why'd you think it's me and not Alvarez? After all, they wanted to kill him." He shrugged. "Think what you want I didn't have anything to do with this."

"Miguel?" McManus asked.

"You kidding me, man? I already have a murder charge to deal with, I don't need no more."

McManus looked between the two, unsure if he believed them or not. "If I discover that you two had anything-"

"Yeah, yeah, you won't, 'cause we didn't do shit," Ryan said.

"Fine. Miguel, you still have that visit with Beecher's brother." McManus banged on the glass, and the door opened for him.

Ryan sat back and grinned. "One problem solved, one more to go."

Miguel didn't think that the trial could be so easily solved, after all killing was the easiest thing in Oz. Everything else was hard.

**Prompt 088. School: Learning How To Accept Help**

Mineo escorted Miguel to the visiting room. All the visitors had been sent away due to the lock down, so the room was empty save for the blond man sitting at a table.

Blond, skinny, dressed in an expensive suit, it was hard to imagine this man as Beecher's brother, but then this guy hadn't spent seven years in Oz. He looked up when he saw Miguel enter the room. He stood up and extended his right hand. "Angus Beecher."

Miguel shook his hand. "Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Beecher and thank you for... y'know... helping me."

Angus nodded, and sat back down. "You understand the charges brought against you, don't you, Mr. Alvarez?"

"Yeah, sure, they wanna fry me, and call me 'Miguel', no one calls me Mr. Alvarez."

"Miguel, what they are saying is that you intentionally and deliberately killed an unarmed man," Angus went on.

"Bullshit. He had a shank, pulled it on me before I pulled out mine."

Angus flipped through his file. "There is no mention of a second weapon in the report from the correctional officers."

Miguel snorted. "I'm not surprised. Bet there is no mention that they beat the shit out of me neither."

"They did?" Angus asked, showing his surprise.

"Hell, yeah, ended up in the infirmary. Doc's got everything written down, x-rays and everything," Miguel went on. "That report means shit, Mr. Beecher."

"So why don't you tell me what happened?" Angus pressed on.

"Nothing much. I went into the supply room to get sheets for the infirmary beds. Bennett was there. He pulled out his shank, and came at me. I got my shank out, trying to stop him, y'know. I didn't mean to kill him or nothing. I was just protecting myself."

Angus smiled. "Once upon a time I might have believed you, but I've watched Toby tell me the same half truths. I'm assuming something else happened between the going into the room and the actual killing."

"Nothing that concerns this," Miguel replied curtly, and he left no doubt that it ended the discussion on the matter.

"Fine, how did he come at you? How was he holding the ... the shank?" Angus got up, and handed Miguel a pen. "Show me exactly what happened."

Miguel took the pen as he stood up, and began replaying what happened. Over and over again, until Angus had written down everything he remembered. When they were done, he sat back down. "Will this help?"

"I don't know, Miguel. Knowing what happened and proving it isn't always the same thing. I'll have to interview the doctor and also the officers that found you. After that, I'll speak to the A.D.A. and we'll go from there." Angus closed his folder and deposited it into his briefcase, before getting up.

Miguel grabbed his arm. "Look, Mr. Beecher, I don't got much, but whatever you want... if I can do anything for you or your brother..." 

Angus smiled. "You don't have to do anything, Miguel. I've taken this job pro bono, but that doesn't mean that I won't do my best. I'll come back as soon as I know anything."

"Okay... and thank you." Miguel sat back down waiting for the lawyer to leave and to be escorted back to his pod.

* * *

**Part 50 - Happy Birthday**

**Prompt 091. Birthday: The Party**

Murphy showed up in the infirmary in the middle of Miguel's shift. "You need to go to the cafeteria. Suzanne needs to see you."

Miguel looked at his watch. It was only 2:00 pm, which meant the cafeteria would be empty. This could mean only one thing: another show. He rolled his eyes. "C'mon, can't she find someone else? O'Reily has nothing else to do, I bet he'd love to help her."

Murphy snorted. "Sure, O'Reily is always the first to volunteer. Let's go, Alvarez."

Miguel sighed, but took off the latex gloves, disposing of them before following Murphy to the cafeteria. However, the room was not empty, at least not completely. Ryan was there, and so was his father, Sister Pete and Father Ray.

It was like a cold shower for Miguel. This had to mean bad news. He found Ryan's eyes. "What's goin' on?"

Ryan grinned, and with that simple gesture, Miguel relaxed. It couldn't be that bad if Ryan was smiling. Miguel cocked his head. "Okay, now I know something is going down. You've got that look."

Ryan went to his side, and loosely put a hand around Miguel's shoulder. "What look, Alvarez?"

"The one where you pretend to be all innocent, and swear you have no fucking idea about what's going on, while knowing more than McManus ever will," Miguel blurted out.

"Now, now, no need to insult me, 'sides you're the one who's been holding out."

Miguel frowned. They clearly weren't talking business, because Ryan would never discuss it so openly, especially with Murphy still in the room. Besides, business talk was reserved for the sanctity of their pod, where no one could overhear them. "What the fuck are you talking about?"

Father Ray cleared his throat. "What Ryan is trying to say-"

"It's that someone," Ryan continued, "likes to play all tough, but he's still a kid, even if he's a year older today."

Miguel looked around at the people present, eyes wide as the implications sank in. "And this is... what? A party? You gotta be shitting me?"

"If you don't believe it," McManus said as he entered the cafeteria, "then you should ask someone you trust."

Miguel felt Ryan tense next to him, and casually wrapped his arm around Ryan's waist, his fingers curling around Ryan's hip. He turned his head and looked at McManus. "I already did." He looked at Ryan again. "So, this is your idea of a party?"

Ryan shrugged. "Don't blame me. I had voted for music, booze, and a couple of strippers, but I was overruled."

Miguel grinned. "I liked your idea better, baby, especially those strippers."

Ryan turned toward Sister Pete. "You sure you can't arrange a couple of conjugals, with a couple of women, or more? We can even wait a day or two, we ain't picky, Sister."

Sister Pete laughed. "Sorry, Ryan." 

"But we do have cake," Suzanne put in.

"Ice cream cake, Ma brought it." Ryan finally let go of Miguel, and went toward the kitchen, and the freezer where the cake was stored.

The moment Ryan left his side, Miguel found himself hugged by everyone present (minus McManus and Murphy), wishing him a happy birthday. His father stayed by his side. "Okay?" he mouthed.

Miguel nodded. "I'm fine... y'know, as much as I can be considering-"

"You start that shit you ain't getting any cake," Ryan warned as he sat the cake on the table. "Voila, cake, fake booze," he said showing a bottle of sparkling apple juice, "and I can always get naked instead of the strippers."

Murphy snorted, and Ryan looked at him innocently. "What? I'm only trying to help a friend."

"O'Reily, don't try that shit with me," Murphy answered.

"Why don't we skip the getting naked part, and eat the cake?" Sister Pete suggested smiling at the antics in front of her.

Ryan sat on the table, and Miguel sat between him and the cake. "You gotta blow... the candles first," Ryan drawled out.

"Ain't the candles you want me to blow," Miguel answered with a snort.

"If you two can't behave like civil human beings, you're going back," McManus said.

Ryan stood on the bench and jumped in front of McManus. "Why don't you fuckin' leave? We're joking around, do you even know what the hell that is?"

"I think one more word from you, and the only cake you'll have will be in your dreams."

Miguel stepped quickly between them, facing Ryan. He cupped the back of Ryan's head. "Let's cut this cake."

There was a moment of silence. Miguel knew how strong the need to lash out could be, and Ryan never seemed to think things through when McManus was involved. Finally, Ryan took his eyes off of McManus, and nodded.

Ryan stood, right behind him, pressing against him. Miguel knew that it was in part to annoy McManus, and grinned. "You're a shithead," he whispered.

"Yeah, I know," Ryan answered, grinning back. "C'mon, before this thing melts."

"You're going to bring them back?" McManus asked Murphy, who nodded. "Okay, then I'll go back to work. It shouldn't be that bad without O'Reily around."

"You shouldn't antagonize him so much," Suzanne told her son, as she sat a symbolic candle on the cake. "Tim did allow this."

Ryan shrugged. "I know, but he annoys me, Ma. No more talking about McManus, okay? Alvarez, make a wish and blow this candle." 

"You know what I want," Miguel answered.

"You still gotta make the wish and you can't tell anyone." Ryan put a hand on Miguel's back, as the birthday boy leaned down and blew out the candle. "It's gonna happen," he whispered as Miguel stood up again. He finally moved away, letting his mother cut the cake, and pass it around

Miguel ate a spoonful, and moaned. "I'm in love, Suzanne."

Suzanne laughed. "You boys, and food. I'll have to bring more."

"Careful, Ma. You almost got a marriage proposal for those peaches," Ryan said as he sat back on the table. He stayed there, eating the cake and watching Miguel talk to everyone around. He turned when he felt someone approach him. Miguel's father pushed a paper in front of him. *Thank you for taking care of him.*

"I ain't taking care of him. He takes care of himself," Ryan answered.

*We all need help in Oz,* Eduardo wrote.

"That we do, and I help him because he's a friend, nothing else."

Ryan waited until Eduardo finished writing something else. *Then thank you for being his friend.*

Murphy cleared his throats. "Guys, you need to go back to the infirmary. O'Reily, time to start cooking."

Miguel looked around, hand on his neck. "Thank you, everyone, really." 

"It was our pleasure, Miguel," Father Ray answered.

Miguel followed his father, and Murphy toward the exit, when Ryan called his name.

"Hey, I didn't get to wish a happy birthday," Ryan said as he walked toward Miguel. He grabbed Miguel's head, and pulled Miguel into a crashing kiss. His other hand went to Miguel's face, and soon Miguel's arms were around him.

Murphy banged on the metal bars. "Break it up, guys."

Reluctantly they let go, and Miguel left. Ryan went back, and picked up the cake. "I'm gonna hide this, and bring it to our pod later."

"You're trying too hard," Suzanne said.

"Yeah? I have no idea what you're talking about, Ma."

"What she means," Sister Pete said, "is that you might be doing too much."

Ryan shook his head. "You know something, Sister? You asked me why I did things. Well, here's your answer. I do it, because no matter how much I tell him otherwise, I don't know if he'll beat this, and I don't want him to die without having some happiness. If a fucking cake, some food, some cigarettes make him happy, fuck it, he's going to get it, no matter what the rules say."

Father Ray took a step toward Ryan. "We're not criticizing, Ryan, but if you try so much, he's going to start thinking that-"

"What? That he could die? You think he doesn't already. We spend thirteen hours locked in a pod, and cards and magazines ain't gonna stop him from thinking about it. What I do gives him something else to think about." Ryan chewed the inside of his cheek. "You think you know, but you have no fucking idea. You're gonna leave now, but we're stuck here, and what I'm doing makes things a little better for Alvarez. So yeah, I'm gonna keep smiling and telling him that everything will be just fine, but that don't mean that we shouldn't enjoy ourselves in the meantime. Maybe I'm lying, maybe I'm not, but I don't feel guilty about it. And now, I have to get to work." He left refusing to listen to any more nonsense. They didn't know Miguel, not like he did.

**Prompt 039. Taste: And Your Cake Too**

Ryan waited for the doors to lock for the night, before grabbing the box with the cake and setting it on the floor.

"Hasn't that thing melted?"

"Are you shitting me? Temperature in that freezer made it a block of ice. It'll be a while before it melts." Ryan sat on the floor, resting his back against the wall. He took out two spoons from his kitchen shirt's pocket. "Let's eat."

Miguel sat down, his back against the bed. "We're gonna get sick."

"If it means we don't have to eat tomorrow, it might not be a bad thing."

Miguel chuckled. "You cook that food."

"I don't make the menu. There'd be no chicken nuggets ever again, if I did," Ryan answered as he spooned a big chunk of ice cream. He ate it up, and then licked the spoon up, sliding it between his lips.

Miguel brought his hand to his crotch, pressing against it. "What the fuck are you doing?"

"Eating the cake," Ryan answered innocently.

"It's fucking early. Hacks are gonna catch us."

Ryan grabbed a towel and threw it in Miguel's lap. "Not if you hide that boner, and I stay away from you."

"Yeah?" But even as he asked, his hand went to crotch, eyes on Ryan. 

"Rub your dick through your pants, imagine that it's me, sliding my fingers over your cock, but you know what I'd like to do?"

"What?" Miguel asked, already breathless.

Ryan took another piece of cake, his tongue slid out, sliding over the ice cream, before putting the spoon in his mouth. He made a show of sucking on the spoon, before sliding it out again. "That's what I'd like to do with your dick."

"Oh God, baby... gotta touch myself."

"Do it." Ryan watched as Miguel licked his lips before breathing through them. Ryan had to squeeze his own cock to ease the ache there. "Tonight... tonight, when it's dark, I'm gonna suck you off, lick your cock until it's hard, and you can't wait anymore, and then I'll stop-"

"Fuck... keep talking, O'Reily."

"I'll do more than talking, I'm gonna turn you over, and fuck you, you like that, don't you? I'm gonna watch you come with my dick up your ass."

Miguel threw his head back, his hand sped up, and then he was coming, biting his lips to keep quiet.

Ryan gave a squeeze to his own dick through the pants, but turned his head, and cocked his head at Murphy who was walking by.

Miguel saw the movement, and snorted. "You're gonna get us thrown out into the hole."

"Nah, we aren't fucking. Clean up, and we can finish this cake."

Miguel nodded toward Ryan's lap. "Something else we need to finish."

Ryan shook his head. "I can wait until lights out. We don't want to push Murphy too much."

* * *

**Part 51 - Help**

**Prompt 013. Yellow: Morning Shifts**

Ryan left his food cart outside Gloria's office, and knocked on her door. "Do you have a moment?"

"What's wrong?" she asked closing the chart in front of her.

"I wanted to ask you something, and no, it's not for me." Ryan took the chair in front of her. "I was thinking..."

She chuckled. "Tim would say that's a bad sign."

"He can keep his opinions for himself, but anyways, both Alvarez and his father work here. Maybe, you could make sure that they have the same shift?" he finished with a hopeful tone.

"You're asking me for a favor for Miguel?"

Ryan nodded. "I mean, it'd be nice for them."

She smiled. "I think it's a great idea, Ryan. I'll put them both on the morning shift, okay?"

"Thank you, Gloria. See you later." Ryan jumped from his chair and resumed his job.

**Prompt 017. Brown: Family Visits**

"Alvarez, get your ass moving; you have a visitor," Mineo yelled.

Miguel frowned. "Beecher said it'd take a few weeks. Do you know if it's him?"

"What? Do you think I'm your personal secretary? Come on, move it."

"Fuck you," Miguel murmured under his breath, before heading out to the visiting room. He grinned when he saw who the visitor was. "Mamá." He hugged his mother. "What you doing here?"

Mrs. Alvarez sat down. "I came to see you and your papá. I know I haven't come before but..." She pushed a box. "I had them in a nice plate, but they wouldn't let me bring it in."

Miguel opened the box, and smiled. "Your brownies... gracias, mamá, and I don't need no plate."

She took his hand, but then looked up. She brought a hand to her mouth. "Eduardo." She got up and hugged him.

Eduardo held her tight, kissing the top of her head. He slowly let her go, still holding her hand as they both sat down.

"Look what she brought us?" Miguel opened the box.

*Thank you,* Eduardo mouthed.

"Queria hacer mas, pero..."

"Are you okay, mamá?"

She shrugged. "We manage, we always do, Miguelito. Your sister is getting married next month, so things are tight, but she's happy. That's all it matters."

"You didn't have to come here, if you're busy," Miguel said.

"No? What is a mother supposed to do when her son could be sentenced to the death penalty? The only reason I'm not smacking you right here is because of those guards, comprende?"

Miguel turned to his father. "Did you tell her?"

Eduardo shook his head. 

"No, and he's lucky too that I can't hit him either. One of your friends called me."

"My friend?" Realization dawned on him. "O'Reily! I'm gonna fucking kill him."

Mrs. Alvarez smacked the back of his head. "You don't talk like that in front of your mother, and that boy was very nice."

"Mamá, we don't know anything yet. I have a lawyer, a good one this time. He's gonna fix this, okay?"

"Okay, but you should have told me, Miguelito. I expect you to call me as soon as you know anything. I shouldn't get the news from some stranger."

"I'll call you." Right after he killed O'Reily, but that could wait until he finished his visit with his mother.

**Prompt 012. Orange: Posters**

Ryan followed McManus inside his office. "I have to ask you a favor," he said, sitting down.

Tim laughed. "You have some balls, O'Reily. Get the fuck out before I call one of the C.O.s."

"No, wait, listen to me. Ma got this poster, for Alvarez. It's just a sunset, big huge orange sun with a beach and palm trees, right?"

"Your mother got a poster? For Alvarez?" Tim rubbed his face with a hand. "Why am I afraid to hear the rest?"

"I want you to let him put it up in our pod," Ryan said.

Tim snorted. "Anything else? Maybe some room service? TVs?"

"You're always saying you want to make Em City different, right? So what's the harm in a poster?" Ryan pressed on.

"Because I can't let him do something that everyone else can't," Tim explained.

"Then, do it for everybody. You could limit it to one poster per pod or per person, no naked chicks and shit like that. C'mon, what's the harm?"

"I know I'm gonna regret this... All right, O'Reily, you can put your poster up."

**Prompt 016. Purple: Limits**

Miguel entered the pod, and looked at the poster taped to a wall. "McManus just told us about the posters ten minutes ago."

Ryan shrugged, before hopping on his bed. "I like to be prepared."

Miguel approached the bunk, settling between Ryan's legs, and spread his arms to each side of Ryan. "Do you know what happens if you keep doing what you're doing? First, you're gonna be black and blue, then purple, and finally yellowish, and then I'm gonna beat the shit out of you again. Comprende?"

Ryan smirked. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Told you not to play that choir boy bullshit with me. First the birthday party, suddenly my father has the same shift as me, then my mother comes here, telling me that a nice friend called her, and now-" He waved to the poster. "Ibiza? Man, do you think I'm stupid?"

"I ain't doing anything special, Alvarez," Ryan answered.

"Yes, you are, and thank you for thinking about it, but it's enough, okay? I can't have you running around, doing shit for me." He rested his head against Ryan's stomach. "I gotta do things myself."

Ryan rested his hands on the back of Miguel's head. "This is different. This isn't business or surviving, this is... I don't know... doing something nice for someone... someone I care about. It don't mean you can't take care of yourself."

"I'm not asking you to stop, just... slow down, baby." Miguel raised his head. "Any more surprised and you'll kill me."

"All right, no more... or at least, I'll slow down." Ryan grazed Miguel's cheek with his knuckles. "I'll keep them private, what you say?"

"That's good, baby. Now, get your ass down here. We have brownies to eat."

* * *

**Part 52 - Passing Time**

**Prompt 036. Smell: Smells Like Death**

The days seemed to never end lately. Miguel had been patient, because Beecher had told him that it would take a few weeks. Beecher wanted to collect as much information as possible before going to the D.A., but now the end was near. Today, Beecher would speak to the D.A., and tomorrow Miguel would learn his fate.

His stomach was in a knot. Nothing he did seemed to take his mind off from that. People had started to notice, because even in the food line, Chico and Meaney had sandwiched him in a clear protective stance. He wasn't complaining, though, since he wouldn't have seen a shank coming the way he felt.

"You look like shit," Ryan said when he served Miguel the mashed potato. "Maybe you should see Gloria."

Miguel shook his head. "Nothing she can do... 'Sides, she'll find a reason to keep me there."

Ryan's look showed that he understood. Miguel would rather be in their pod tonight, and not alone in an infirmary's bed.

"I'll see you after we clean up," Ryan finally said.

"I ain't going nowhere, O'Reily." Miguel winked at Ryan, and found a seat. Another few minutes, and he could finally go insane without worrying about any of these fuckers. Another few minutes, and then O'Reily would find a way to make him forget about tomorrow.

**Prompt 045. Moon: Dreams**

They'd been locked up for the night for only one hour, and Miguel was already going insane. Ryan had tried to cheer him up, but Miguel had told him to shut the fuck. At which point, the Irishman had gone to his bunk and not said another word.

Tired of doing nothing, Miguel sat up on his bed, looked at the poster on the wall, and sighed. "We need to get another poster."

Ryan was lying on his bunk. He lowered the magazine. "Yeah, what do you want?"

"I don't know... something with the moon. I haven't seen it in a long time, might never see it again."

Ryan hopped down his bed, and sat next to Miguel. "I won't, but you will. Still, it's a good idea."

"Why do you keep doing this, O'Reily? We both know-"

"The only thing we know is that you will get out," Ryan insisted.

Miguel shifted and rested his head against Ryan's chest. "Tell me something, why is it so important for you?"

"'Cause I'm never getting out, but you will. You'll go all the places we've seen, and you gonna take fucking pictures, and then you'll send them to me, because if you don't, I'm finding a way out, and I'm gonna kick your skinny Cuban ass."

"Well, if it gets you out, I might not remember to send them," Miguel said with a grin. "I'll save them for you, and give them to you when you find me."

Ryan wrapped his arm around Miguel. "Send them anyway. I'll know there is someone out there who remembers I'm alive."

Miguel closed his eyes. He wasn't the only one battling demons, and it was time he remembered that. God, he was such a prick. He never thought about Ryan and what a life sentence meant for him, but then they'd both die of old age before Ryan admitted any weaknesses. "I'll come and see you after every trip, bring the pictures in person, what you say?"

"That sounds good. You can even find that special place for me."

"Sure." Dreams, nothing more than dreams, but maybe Ryan was right. You needed to dream if you wanted to stay sane.

**Prompt 053. Earth: Six Feet Under**

Miguel didn't understand what had happened. One moment he was in Ryan's arms, and the next... dirt, dirt everywhere. In his mouth, up his nose. God, he couldn't breathe, couldn't move. He was surrounded by dirt.

He tried to breathe, short breath that only made him choke on the dirt. He started to dig, his fingernails hurting and bleeding with the amount of dirt he was moving.

He could finally see the light, almost there, and yet the more he dug, the further away he got from the light. He couldn't breathe anymore, he was... 

Miguel woke up with a gasp. The lights were still on, and a pair of arms was still around him, but Ryan wasn't speaking. In fact he was so still that he was barely breathing.

"A nightmare," Miguel said in a soft voice.

"It happens." Ryan's dismissal was so much like what Miguel had come to expect. Ryan would never point out any weaknesses Miguel had, never let them affect what he thought of Miguel.

"I was dying," Miguel continued gently.

"You're alive," Ryan whispered back.

"Today has been a fucked up day."

"I know, but tomorrow will be better. Tomorrow, you'll know that I'm right." Ryan kissed Miguel's temple. "Tomorrow, you'll stop worrying."

Or he'll start panicking, but Miguel didn't say that. "We should move before the hacks come."

Ryan shrugged. "Let them come; we ain't doing anything wrong."

Miguel doubted that the hacks would agree, but stayed where he was. If they kept dreaming together, maybe the nightmares would disappear. "So what do you think about Les Seychelles?"

Ryan grinned. "Nice!"

* * *

**Part 53 - There Are No Endings**

**Prompt 010. Years: Plea Bargain**

Miguel waited in the visitor room. His fingers were laced, and he rolled his thumbs around. Nervous didn't even begin to describe how he felt. However, a certain calm had also settled inside him. This was it. There would be no more guessing, no more worrying after this. Miguel stood up the moment he saw Angus Beecher walk in. "So?"

Beecher put down his briefcase, and sat down. "The D.A. is willing to make a deal. They would drop the murder charge, and you'd plea guilty to assault with a deadly weapon. That would mean an additional fifteen years on top of your current sentence, and you wouldn't be eligible for parole for another fifteen years."

"They like even numbers," Miguel said sarcastically as he leaned back against the chair.

"Before you make the decision, I want to explain all the possible outcomes. If we go forward, there are some evidentiary problems with the D.A.'s case. However, it will be hard to prove that the C.O.s lied about a second knife. It would be your word against theirs."

"And I'm a criminal," Miguel put in.

"Well, yes. We can impeach them, saying that they had something against you, supporting it by the beating you received, but I don't know how far that will go in convincing a judge. They can claim that you resisted arrest, and they used necessary force to disarm you. In addition, the D.A. might still try to add a charge of possession of a deadly weapon, and assault. You were found with a weapon in your hand."

"So you're saying that if we go to trial, I could still be found guilty of assault, and risk the death penalty in the process."

Beecher nodded. "Unfortunately, yes.... Look, I think I know what more jail time means, I've seen my brother, but as your lawyer, I would advise you to take the deal. With the current political climate, I really don't see a judge accepting your word, especially with your record since you've been in Oz, and if you're found guilty of premeditated murder, it is likely that a judge would impose the death penalty. I'm sorry."

"If they are so sure of their case, why are they bothering with a deal? I mean, you're saying that they have enough to fry me."

"Because no one wants the publicity. It brings up violence and crime inside prisons, the death penalty, and many other issues that no politician wants to see played out in the newspapers. A deal means that the press will forget about another murder in this jail. It also means a lot of manpower and money saved. It's... it's cost effective."

Miguel snorted. "Cost effective, that's how they think of us. Okay, so when do we need to give an answer?"

"You only have a few days, Miguel. I need to get back to them before the end of the week."

Miguel shook his head. "No need to wait. I know what I want to do."

**Prompt 063. Summer: Days Of Our Lives**

Beecher sat around a table outside Ryan's pod. "Hey." He touched Ryan's leg, and nodded downstairs. "Alvarez is back."

Miguel looked up at Ryan, as he made his way upstairs. His expression gave nothing away. He reached upstairs and stood by the rail, arms open, and hands grabbing the metal.

"How did it go?" Toby asked.

"D.A. offered me a deal. Assault with a deadly weapon to be served consecutively." Miguel chuckled. "They are so boring, can't come up with a different one."

"What that means? In terms of time?" Ryan asked.

"It means fifteen years before I can even think about parole, twenty-three full term."

"That's ridiculous," Toby said. "It was self defense."

"Yeah, I know, and your brother explained all the pros and cons, Beecher. Let me tell you, he was very thorough, even mentioned that fact that I get to live."

Toby leaned forward, trying to see Miguel's face. "You're not gonna take the deal, are you? It's insane."

"Don't bother, Beecher. He already made the decision," Ryan said. He stood up, and went next to Miguel. "Haven't you?"

Miguel turned his head, and smiled. "Do you have plans for the summer?"

"I was thinking about going to Ibiza," Ryan answered.

"That's nice, but I was thinking about spending the summer in Em City. It's not that bad once you get used to it. In fact, I might be spending the next two decades there."

Ryan covered Miguel's hand with his. He looked over Em City, and nodded. They might die in Oz, but as sure as hell they would be living and surviving together. Ryan intertwined his fingers with Miguel's. "Yeah, it's not bad if you have friends."


End file.
